


Boy crush.

by Freddia



Category: Rocketman (2019), Rocketman (2019) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2020-10-25 20:01:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20729957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freddia/pseuds/Freddia
Summary: Everyone have fantasies... and if you want to make them true, you will have to deal with the consequences.(Taron has a huge "boy crush" on Richard)





	1. Fantasy.

**Author's Note:**

> I love guys crushing on other guys and being all bi curious.
> 
> So cute.

He had never connected so well and so quickly with someone in his life.

The first thing he thought as he saw Richard Madden for the first time was that TV didn't do him justice. He was much more beautiful in person. He thought Richard was the most attractive man he had ever seen with his imposing bearing, some gray hairs mixed in his well-combed dark hair, and especially his blue eyes.

Not only was he physically beautiful, but his personality was wonderful: funny, witty, friendly, and generous.  
Time with him passed quickly, and despite the long days spent recording he never felt tired, though his stomach would hurt when Richard laughed next to him.

“You sound so good!” Taron said genuinely.

“That’s not true,” Richard replied, “I don't sound like that. They used the mixer.”

“No, the reality is that we didn’t use it,” said Sonny, the sound technician.

Taron hugged Richard, laughing because he still couldn't believe that it was his own voice in the Honky Cat playback.  
_  
Relaxing in his room, Taron searched for videos about Elton on YouTube. 

Elton’s scene in the Spice Girls movie made him smile. He remembered when, as a child, he had asked his mother who was the man that the girls kissed and touched.

It was the first time he heard the name Elton John.

He wrote a text to Richard. Lately their exchanges on WhatsApp were constant. He asked Richard if he had ever seen the Spice Girls movie, although the answer was obvious, and if he remembers Elton's fun scene.

He laughed alone at the clip a couple of times. It seemed more comical to him as an adult than when he had seen it as a child.

He found himself looking at his phone more than once. Richard still hadn’t answered and he always answers quickly.

Maybe he was in the shower.

He left to prepare a cup of tea in the kitchen and then returned, ready to continue his investigation. He checked his phone again, but there was still no answer.

He was already getting very impatient and he didn't know why. His friends, family, and even one or two girls would often not answer his messages for a number of reasons, but with Richard it was different. He made him feel anxious, and even a little angry.  
He took a deep breath and scratched his head hard. He picked up his phone and called without thinking twice.

It rang and rang until he reached voicemail. Annoyed, he hung up and threw his phone onto the bedside table without much care. He didn't understand why he felt so upset.

That night, he could hardly sleep.  
_  
Vibration from his phone woke him in the morning. Light from the device made his eyes burn. But when he saw Richard's name on the screen he suddenly felt totally awake.

“Hello,” he answered.

“Hello, were you sleeping?”

“Eeem, yes.”

“We’re due in the studio in twenty minutes.”

“Eh?”

Taron looked at the clock on the wall and saw that it was late- very late.

“Shit!” he shouted, leaping out of bed.

“Don't panic, mate” he heard the voice say from the other end, “I'm already in my car. I’ll stop by to pick you up.”

“Really?”

“Make some coffee, I'll be there in ten minutes.”

Once Taron was finally able to wake up and locate himself in time and space he realized he needed to relax. That morning he had some songs to record, and then they had a rehearsal of the Honky Cat number, which had been fun so far, and they had almost learned it from start to finish.  
_  
The caffeine was already taking effect; he felt awake and the headache was gone. He had had a horrible night.

“I'm sorry I didn't answer your call,” Richard apologized.

“No problem, I was just watching some Elton videos on YouTube.”

“Ohh, I remember him in the Spice Girls movie,” he commented, “he’s become part of every generation.”

“Yes, what a legend.”

A silence settled between them. One that, at least to Taron, seemed somewhat awkward.

“What did you do last night?” he finally asked.

“Brandon was in town, and we got together,” Richard explained.

“And Brandon is...?”

“It's complicated. For now we’re getting to know each other.”

“Wait… you-?”

Taron did not know how to process this information. He had just started to get to know Richard. Though they had not yet started filming the movie, they had a good time and joked around while rehearsing and recording the songs. But they hadn't talked much about their personal lives.

“Me what?” Richard asked.

“I didn't know you were gay.”

“I'm not gay.”

“But you just said…”

“That doesn't make me gay... I just... I don't know. I like people, not genders.”

“Then you're bisexual.”

“Well, if you want to give me a socially acceptable label then yes, you could say that I’m bisexual.”

Taron just limited himself to making a sound with his mouth to avoid making any comments that might be misunderstood and offend his new friend.  
_  
Taron took advantage of that weekend to get together with his friends, since he would start filming soon and not have time for anything.

They were always the same group of five, and the same pub too. Some things would never change regardless of fame, money, or the fact that some of them were already thinking about marriage.

“When can I go to the set with my dad?” Asked his friend Phill, “he’s dying to meet Elton.”

“I don't know,” Taron replied, “nobody knows if or when Elton will visit.”

“Well, at least get me an autograph.”

“No one uses autographs anymore.”

“I'm sure Elton still does.”

“I want a photo with Richard Madden,” said his friend Tony, “I’m still not over his death in Game of Thrones.”

“He didn't die, Tony,” Phill remarked, “his character died.”

“You understood me, why the correction?”

“Did you kiss him yet?” Tony asked.

Taron didn't know why but he felt ashamed and angry at his friends’ mocking laughter.

“No... Not yet. Why are you guys laughing?”

“They’re idiots,” said his friend Matt, “they’re afraid that they would like what they see.”

“It's just my job,” Taron explained.

“You get paid to kiss Richard Madden,” Matt said, “I'd kill for that job.”

“Tell that to your girlfriend, Matt,” Phill scoffed.

“She knows it.”

“And what does she think about it? “ Taron asked curiously.

“It’s my ‘boy crush’.”

“What’s that?”

“When a man is very attractive and you would do anything with him even if you consider yourself heterosexual.”

“My ‘boy crush’ is David Bowie,” Tony said, “but unfortunately he’s dead.”

Taron mulled over the conversation. Of course he had considered many men attractive before, but he had never heard the term “boy crush”.  
Richard was undoubtedly his “boy crush”, and the fact that he was his friend who he saw every day and also had to kiss, only fed into a fantasy that, for another man, would be unattainable.  
_  
Taron felt nervous, and he really shouldn’t be.

That day they were to kiss for the first time. John Reid would arrive at the recording studio where Elton was recording a song, and they would end up kissing passionately inside a closet. Ironic, he thought.

“Why so tense?” Richard asked suddenly.

“I'm not,” he lied.

“It sure seems like it. Is it because of the kiss?”

“Of course not.”

“It's just acting.”

“I know, I don't know why you're telling me this.”

“Okay, sorry.”

He was a bit cranky, and that had sounded very bad and aggressive.

“Hey, Richard,” he called out, “I'm sorry.”

“It’s okay, I didn't see it as an attack.”

“It's just that... Well, I might be a little nervous.”

“Look, you have nothing to worry about... If you want to, we can practice beforehand.”

“Practice?”

“Yes, so you know how it feels... As I already told you, it’s no different from kissing a woman ... There can be one big difference, but I have no beard so you won’t feel the difference.”

“I suppose.”

“Let's go to the makeup room.”

Taron followed him without much thought. The two of them were already made-up so the room was empty. Richard closed the door behind them and suddenly his nerves returned.

“That wig suits you,” he said.

“Thanks,” Richard replied.

Taron took a deep breath and Richard noticed. He smiled sideways and became much more nervous.

“Ready?” he asked.

Taron smacked himself on the head and tried to calm down.

Richard brought both hands up to Taron’s neck and approached cautiously until his lips rested delicately on his. They were joined only for a few seconds until Richard moved away a few millimeters and then returned, but this time with his lips parted.  
Taron did the same, barely opening his mouth but feeling the heat of his lips and the dampness of his saliva.

No, it definitely was not the same as kissing a woman.

“Sooo?” Richard asked, breaking away from the kiss.

Taron felt a fire inside his body, travelling from his lower belly to his face. He was surely flushed.

“Okay…” he said in a whisper.

A knock on the door pulled them both out of the trance, or at least a trance in which Taron had remained.  
_  
The first thing he did when he arrived at his apartment was to take a cold shower. They had done seven takes of the scene and the kiss had not been like it was in the makeup room. The kiss had to be passionate, hungry- and Richard made sure that was the case every time his John Reid held him against the shelves in the closet.

He kissed so good.

He put his hands to his face. Not even cold water was working. It was stupid to resist, so he turned on the hot water tap and let it relax his body. He let his hands go lower and masturbated, thinking about Richard’s kisses, his heat, his saliva, his body on his.  
He was screwed.  
_  
Panicked, he had no better idea than to call an ex-girlfriend. He supposed that any heterosexual man would do the same after having had an exquisite homosexual experience with one of the most beautiful men on earth.

And of course, when you try to force something, everything goes awfully. He thought about Richard throughout the sexual encounter. Repression and fear prevented him from finishing and he left his ex totally dissatisfied.

Luckily his ex was also a friend. She told him that it didn't matter; that she knew he was very stressed, and that they could go to dinner next time and just relax.

He felt so defeated that he ate a piece of pizza- just the dough. He didn't even bother putting some cheese on it or heating it up, and as things can always get worse, the first thing he saw when he opened Instagram were photos of Richard partying with friends.  
As if Taron had turned into a high school girl, he began investigating Brandon. He found that he was very handsome, an actor, and had already dated another celebrity. Apparently there were already rumors circulating of a romance between him and Richard, though they had both been smart enough to keep everything shrouded in mystery.

His stomach started to hurt, but he didn't know if it was because of the pizza dough or jealousy.  
_  
His next kiss was not with Richard but with one of the supporting actors, basically an extra, whose name he could not remember very well.  
Elton's first kiss was important, so he put all his effort into reflecting that moment of surprise and doubt that the stolen kiss brought, as Elton himself described it to him.

They filmed four takes, and at no time did Taron feel what he had felt with Richard. Kissing that boy felt like kissing a wall. Nothing.  
They said goodbye in the same way they had greeted. He didn't think about him for a second. There were no cold showers, he didn't touch himself thinking about him, and much less did he call an ex girlfriend.

The problem was Richard.

The problem was how Richard made him feel.

His phone vibrated and his heartbeat increased when he saw Richard's message.

“How was the recording today?” Richard asked.

“Stressful, but fun” he replied.

“Kisses better than me?”

Taron had to laugh, what was with that bold question?

“His lips are thicker than yours, but not so soft” he replied after thinking carefully.

"Black men are hot"

"Have you been with many?" he could not stop himself from asking. 

"One or two"

Strangely the answer did not make him jealous but rather activated his imagination, and his head was filled with erotic images.

"Experienced man" he wrote, wanting to know more.

"Rather I consider myself a man without fear of experimenting"

Taron frowned then bit his lip. Were they flirting?

“Fear is a bad thing. Fear paralyzes ” he replied.

"People miss a lot of great things because they are afraid"

"Like what?"

“Sex, for example”

Yes... so they were definitely flirting, but he had no idea what the conversation was leading to.

"You didn't answer my question, T" Richard wrote before he could answer.

"Which one?"

"Kisses better than me?"

"They were two different kisses"

"That’s not an answer"

He moved his lips again and took a sip of water, though his mouth was still dry after. It was obvious that they both knew the answer but apparently Richard wanted to hear it.

"You kiss better, Richard"

"I'll have to make sure you didn’t say that just to make me happy."

"Oh yes? And how will you do that?"

"See you on Thursday, T"

That sounded as if the conversation was over. In fact, Richard had disconnected and left Taron with a sense of confusion.  
Thursday?

He looks through the days and times for each scene... He knew exactly what was going to happen on Thursday.  
_  
He had not interacted with Richard for two days. Not even a single message. Nothing. He had been filming mostly with Jamie, but that Thursday was exclusively him and his co-star.

Taron was inspecting himself in the mirror of the makeup room when he saw Richard come in wearing a white robe. It wasn't very well-tied, so he could see part of Richard’s strong chest decorated with beautiful black hair.

Richard walked up to him, completely invading his personal space. Taron could only be petrified in place, not understanding what was going on with his partner or what he intended.

“I'm going to make sure what you told me is real.”

And then he left just as he arrived, leaving Taron with a strange inner heat after feeling his warm breath on his face.

He could only use his nervousness as an advantage. As Dexter kept telling him, Elton should be nervous and uncomfortable, even awkward if possible, not knowing what to do during his first sexual experience.

He saw Richard take off his robe and get naked from the waist up while one of the makeup girls fixed his hair. He had to look straight ahead and breathe deeply. He had to be professional.

“Action!” Dexter shouted.

Shit, shit, shit, was all he could think when Richard approached him, bowed his head and kissed him with his mouth open. He could barely feel his tongue.

All the talks and rehearsals were void in his mind. He couldn’t remember what he had to do next, so he just grabbed Richard's neck to deepen the kiss. He felt strong hands on his back pulling at his shirt and suddenly he could remember some of that choreography from sex scenes in the cinema.

“Cut!” Dexter shouted.

Richard shifted away from him, still staring into his eyes, penetrating.

“Taron, you're doing a great job. Both of you,” said the director. “Just try not to look so uncomfortable, at the beginning. After the first kiss everything changes.”

“I Agree.”

“We start again!”

Shit, shit, shit, that's how they were going to be for hours, and they hadn't even taken off a single piece of clothing.  
Richard seemed to be enjoying his discomfort, disorientation, and suffering. So be it. If he wanted to play, he was going to play.  
_  
His body shook when their skin made contact and Richard noticed. He could feel it all over his body, moving slowly and sensually.

"Roll it, Taron," the director ordered.

Oh yes, that’s what he was waiting for to take revenge. He would give Richard a taste of his own medicine, and it would begin at that moment. Taron bit Richard hard low on his neck before rolling him over, and he heard a faint moan of surprise in his ear.

Taron wasted no time getting between his legs. He didn't care about anything. He had thrown his professionalism aside. He only cared to win the little game they had gotten themselves into.

He had always been very competitive.

“Feel free, guys,” said the director, “Richard, move your feet.”

As they had already discussed, they would have to be simulating sexual movements for a while as the camera above them rose to end the scene.  
Taron pushed his hips against Richard’s, causing their members to collide because yes, they had agreed to be completely naked. Richard groaned, barely audible, and Taron drowned him with a passionate kiss.

“Cut!”

Taron had heard it, but he was trying to win and honestly, he didn't want to stop. He kept kissing Richard and moving against him, and starting to feel them both getting hard.

“Cut!” the director shouted again, a little louder.

Taron was not going to stop, but it was Richard who finally pushed him off. He felt a stab of guilt at the thought that perhaps he had gone too far.

“I'm sorry,” he said.

Richard got up, appearing somewhat annoyed, and took the robes that the assistant extended to him. Taron realized that some of the staff members, as well as Dexter, were looking at him oddly.

“Is everything fine?” she asked.

“I need a cigarette,” Richard said.

“Everyone,” said the director, “take ten minutes.”

Taron felt ashamed, confused, and still quite horny. He never expected Richard to react poorly, and he thought that perhaps he misunderstood the signs.

“We will have to continue,” Dexter said, “so I advise you to fix whatever is going on between you two.”

He took a deep breath. The director was right- they couldn't keep working if they were angry or there was tension between them. They couldn't risk anything with the movie. It must be perfect. They had to do it, for Elton.  
_  
He took a deep breath before knocking on the door of Richard’s trailer. Few times in his life had he felt so nervous.

Richard opened the door without expression or surprise, as if he had been waiting for him. Richard stepped aside and let him pass.

“I'm sorry,” Taron said.

“I'm not a doll that you can use to discover your sexuality, Taron.”

“I never considered you that way.”

“And you did it in front of everyone! While filming a scene! You were so unprofessional!”

“I know! That's why I came to apologize. I'm not proud of what happened.”

“What did you want to happen?”

“Maybe I interpreted some messages incorrectly.”

“What did you want, Taron?!”

“I just thought that... I don't know. That I could turn you on during the scene…”

“You are so immature.”

Taron felt so ashamed of his actions. He had been blinded by his impulses... blinded for Richard.

“You're just a scared straight little guy,” Richard said.

“What?”

“Something in you must like me,” Richard said, approaching him, “and you got scared, so you covered for yourself with that scene, thinking that it's just acting. Or writing WhatsApp messages with double meaning...”

“That was you!” he replied indignantly.

“And you followed me!”

“You provoked me first.”

“And you loved it.”

Taron felt a strange rage rising through his body, his breath stirred and he clenched his fists.

“Why don't you just admit that you’re confused?” Richard asked, moving closer still.

“Now you're the immature one.”

“I’m not the one who ruined a scene or pretended not to hear the director to provoke my partner.”

“You are stupid, Richard!”

Two sharp knocks startled them.

“We have to continue!” they heard a voice from outside say.

Taron gave Richard one last withering look and stepped out of the trailer, ignoring Richard's mischievous smile behind him.  
_  
When he arrived at his apartment he dropped onto the couch. He had never felt so emotionally and physically exhausted.  
They had filmed for more than four hours until Dexter was happy. He put his hands on his face and stifled a groan. He couldn't believe that he almost ruined such an important scene in the film, but worst of all, he had ruined a friendship.

That friendship had been ruined ever since he allowed Richard to kiss him outside of filming.

He picked up his phone and on impulse he sought to contact his ex-girlfriend, but immediately put his finger away. What would he gain from that?

He kept scrolling until he reached the right contact, and pressed it.

“Hello?” he heard from the other end.

“Elton? ...” I need to talk to you.  
_  
Talking with Elton and his husband lightened the load, but also gave him a lot to think about. He could recognize that he was attracted to Richard, and that he had been attracted to other men in the past. They had always been co-protagonists, bigger men who confused him, and the relationship ranged from friendship to father-figure. It was a feeling that made him want to hug and kiss them and look at them as if they were the most wonderful thing in the world.

A platonic crush.

But Richard was different. He was not platonic- he was real, he was sexual, and he reciprocated.

And that scared him.

Added to that was the fear that his friendship with Richard was broken. He had not seen or exchanged messages with him for three days. He needed a sign, anything, to know that things between them were fine.

He picked up his phone and started typing.

"Hey mate, are we alright?"

He smiled when he saw, instantly, how the two tildes turned blue and the word "Writing..." appeared.

"Of course! I miss the set... I miss you."

Taron clenched his eyes and suppressed the silly laugh of a teenager. He missed him too, but he was not going to tell him. He was not going to fall for Richard’s game, or whatever he was pretending, because he had already lost once.

“I hope to see you on set soon. I'm getting bored"

"So you only have a good time when you're with me?"

Taron bit his lip. Why did everything sound so suggestive? It was getting so hard to resist his innuendo.

“I have a good time when you’re there”

That was not a lie. It was definitely not a lie with how fast his heart was beating.

"I also have a good time with you... and I'm also bored. Do you want to come over?"

Taron almost dropped his phone. He was not expecting the invitation and suddenly he felt more excited, confused, and scared than ever.

"I don’t want to disturb you"

“You wouldn't be- on the contrary. I'm preparing pasta and we could watch Netflix ”

Anyone in their age range knew what it meant to invite someone to watch Netflix.

He was thinking too much, he was panicking, and before he could be rational his fingers had already responded with a simple:

"OK"

"I wait for you"

“Shit!” he yelled.

He ran to the bathroom to take a quick shower, shave, put on cologne, brush his teeth, and change clothes. He didn't know why he was doing all that, he was just going to a friend's house to eat pasta and watch Netflix.  
_  
He chose only simple clothes but he knew they looked great: blue jeans, a short-sleeved black shirt that showed off his body and arms very well, and sneakers.

Richard opened the door with his perfect smile, his perfect hair, and his perfect body. He also had a very simple look: pajama pants and a shirt with very comfortable slippers. He was at home after all.

“I brought ice cream,” Taron told him, trying to calm his nerves.

“Great! Come in.”

“Thank you.”

He had never been to Richard’s apartment before, and he realized everything there looked like him. Sophisticated, elegant, beautiful, and in very good taste. Modern furniture in large spaces, a real single loft much tidier than his... it even smelled like him.

“Something smells good,” Taron commented.

“Thanks. It's a sauce that I bought from the same Italian restaurant.”

“So you're not making pasta, you just bought it.”

“Well... I cook it.”

“Cheater.”

“Take a piece of bread and taste the sauce.”

Taron did so, and it tasted delicious.

“Delicious,” he said.

“I know,” Richard replied. He was not looking at the food, but at Taron.

Taron couldn't help but get nervous and turn away from him, pretending to cough.

“How’s the set without me?” Richard said, noticing the tension.

“Very English, we miss your Scottish accent.”

Richard laughed, proving to Taron once again that it was one of the most beautiful sounds he ever heard.

“I’ll come back soon. Tuesday, to be exact.”

“Yes, thankfully… Tuesday?” he asked, confused. “I thought you were coming back on Friday.”

“I’m coming on Tuesday to watch your scene.”

Taron tried to recall his Tuesday scene, and a suffocating heat rose to his face as he remembered.

“I want to see those three beautiful men on top of you.”

“It's not a big deal,” said Taron, trying not to sound nervous.

“You look terrified.”

“It's just acting.”

“I meant now.”

Richard moved a little closer to him and Taron’s back hit the kitchen wall.

“I am,” admitted Taron.

“Why?”

“Because I really don't understand what happens to me when you're near.”

“Do you need me to help you understand what you feel?”

“Maybe.”

Richard cautiously shortened the distance between them and laid his thick lips on his. The contact sent electricity to every cell of his body, causing him to tense up.

“You okay?” Richard asked.

”Oh yeah.”

“Should I continue?”

“Yes, please.”

“Since you say it like that…”

Richard kissed him again, firmer and wetter this time, his body relaxing little by little. Taron felt this kiss very differently from how he felt during filming. They were not playing any roles and there were not dozens of people behind the cameras, nor was there a director with his eyes fixed on them.

Taron received an adrenaline boost and was carried away. He put his hands on Richard's waist, pulling him closer, and gently slid his tongue against his, eliciting a faint moan from Richard that traveled straight to his crotch.

That definitely felt much better without cameras around documenting their movements.

“What do you want me to do to you?” Richard asked.

“Oh... I don't know.”

“Yes you do, all men know it. Don’t be shy.”

“Well... can you suck it?”

“I don't know, are you asking me or are you telling me?”

“I'm telling you.”

“What exactly?”

“Suck my dick!”

“Classic.”

Richard knelt in front of him and began kissing the prominent bulge trapped inside his pants.

Richard's game was making him dizzy. He was putting his patience to the test but he also didn't want him to stop. He wanted to enjoy his outburst as long as necessary, without wondering if he would regret it later.

He felt Richard's warm hands pull down his pants, and then the same torture continued over his underwear. 

“Come on…” he begged.

“Patience. Good things take time.”

He threw his head back and hit the kitchen wall, but he felt no pain since all he could feel was Richard's hot breath on him. He had to bring a hand to his head to be able to support himself.

“Richard, please-” he pleaded again.

“Listen to you, begging.”

Taron met Richard’s blue eyes fixed on his, glowing full of desire and mischief. He couldn't look away. He was hypnotized.

Richard slowly slid his underwear to the floor and shot him a lascivious look.

“Nice,” he whispered, before bringing his mouth to Taron’s dick.

Taron smiled and he took a deep breath, trying to contain all the pleasure that he felt... and to not come instantly.

Richard was driving him crazy. He could already feel a suffocating heat, the perspiration beginning to cover his skin, his hectic breathing and the erratic palpitations of his heart.

He tangled his hand in Richard's hair and convinced himself to thrust his hips forward- he needed to feel more. He tilted his head forward and their eyes met again.

Richard was definitely going to drive him crazy.

“God! That feels so good,” he said.

“I know,” Richard replied, taking his mouth away and continuing with his hand.

“Don’t stop.”

He brought his mouth back and any rational thought left Taron’s mind completely. There was no space left for shame or regret. He just wanted Richard to keep feeling it like that, looking at it like that, touching it like that.

Richard’s hands snuck under his shirt, stroking his abdomen, and rising to his chest.

He could barely breathe.

The same hands slid back down, moving to his back then to his ass, squeezing and pulling him forward, which brought out a groan of pleasure and surprise from Taron.

“I'm gonna come,” Taron warned.

“Oh no no, I'm enjoying this too much.”

“Fuck!”

He let out a loud moan when he felt Richard’s mouth again. He wasn't sure if he was excited by what Richard was doing or what he was saying.

He tried to control his breathing, delay his orgasm, but it was becoming impossible.

“I'm so close, please,” he begged.

He felt like he was going blind. He could hear his heart thrum in his ears. Blood ran fast through his veins, converging on that part of his body.

“I can't, I can't anymore.”

The air disappeared completely from the room when he drowned the orgasm in a groan that could have alerted the entire building.  
It was the best orgasm of his life.

His legs turned into jelly and he dropped to the floor, using the wall as support.

It took him several seconds to return to reality, and when he opened his eyes he saw Richard in front of him, watching him with curiosity and very swollen lips.

“Did you swallow?” Taron asked.

“What do you think?”

“Shit!”

“I think you liked it.”

“Oh shit!”

“I'll take that as a yes.”

Richard kissed him and he had a fleeting urge to pull back, remembering where his mouth had been minutes before, but ultimately he didn't feel disgusted by the action or the taste.

“You are so good at it,” he said.

“I don't know if I'm good. I'm just a man who knows what men like.”

“True.”

“Are you still flying on another planet after that orgasm?”

“I think so.”

“Okay, let me know when you land, because I'm going to go eat that pasta.”

His senses took a long time to return, but return they did, and his sense of smell immediately detected the delicious Italian sauce.  
It looked like the night would be food and Netflix after all… right next to his boy crush.

The end.

(?)


	2. Devil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't going to keep writing, but you guys started filling my indbox asking for more... and here it is.
> 
> Thank you to pilotofmysoul.tumblr.com for beta reading.

He was awake but he didn't want to open his eyes.

A warm body was entangled with his and it felt so good.

His eyes burned when he opened them. The TV screen in front of him was only showing static- the show they were watching had ended hours ago.

He toured the apartment with his eyes. On the table were dirty dishes and two empty bottles of wine, which explained the headache.

The body next to him moved, tightening its hold on his waist.

Taron looked to the side and saw Richard next to him, sleeping like the sexy angel he was. His was the most beautiful face he had ever seen... Yeah, a man’s face.

Bits and pieces of last night started coming back to him. They had consumed pasta and wine between anecdotes and laughs, then moved to the sofa to watch a Spanish series on Netflix. 

Sometime during the second episode, the two had been embroiled in a steamy make out session. Richard had the face of an angel but the kiss of a demon, and boy did that demon turn him on. 

But Taron had always been afraid of the devil.

He had a religious upbringing. His church, school, and even his mother would warn him of the devil: an evil form that could seduce you and to bend you to his will. The devil could get you to do everything he wanted, and you would be powerless to resist.

His sleep-addled mind could come up with no other explanation: Richard was the devil.

He panicked. His breathing began to accelerate. He needed to get out of there, quickly, but carefully, as to not wake Richard up. Slowly, delicately, he disentangled himself, his skin turning cold as he lost contact with his partner, who was oblivious to his movements.

Once freed, he glanced back at Richard one last time before leaving, guiltily, like someone who had committed a crime.

He cried once he got into his car, gripping the steering wheel in his hands. His head was a mess of thoughts, his body full of feelings he had never experienced before.

“Fuck!” he cried out.  
_  
Work was keeping him sane… almost.

He ignored two calls from Richard and a couple of WhatsApps, though in the back of his mind he knew he couldn't ignore him forever.

Tuesday arrived on set and everything was red- red with lust, red with heat. As if anything could happen. The decor and costuming was so sexual, every extra looked like sex on a stick.

Taron was nervous, but not about the scene. He was nervous because Richard had said he would come to the set to watch him film it. So there he stayed: buried in his trailer until someone came around to collect him.

Three takes later, however, there still were no signs of Richard. 

There were so many people on the set that day, so maybe he just hadn't seen Richard... Which would be a good thing, because he didn't want to see him.  
_  
Taron was exhausted when he arrived back at his apartment. He just wanted to shower then go right to sleep. 

His phone vibrated in his pocket while he was drinking water. It was Richard.

“That was so hot” the message read.

So he was there? Heat travelled up his body until it reached his face. He wanted to ignore the message but curiosity got the better of him.

“I didn’t see you” he wrote back.

“Of course you didn’t, not with those gorgeous guys all over you”

“Whatever”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m just tired”

He saw that Richard was in the middle of writing, and he just didn’t want to read anymore.

“I’m going to bed, see you” he quickly wrote before Richard could reply.

Richard stopped writing, and then there was no answer. Only the two blue ticks.

Taron couldn’t sleep even though he was so tired.

He couldn't believe that demon had seduced and dominated him with that body, those eyes, that mouth... that incredibly talented mouth… He felt himself get hard thinking about that mouth, and he hated himself for it.

He picked up his phone. It was after 2 am- too late to call his ex girlfriend, and he doubted that she would be able to fix anything anyway.

“Fuck it!”

He got out of bed and rummaged through his closet. He had promised himself that he would quit, but the anxiety was too much to bear alone. He went out onto the balcony and lit a cigarette, taking a deep drag.

“Yes…” he almost moaned, bringing an unwanted memory of the moans Richard had pulled from him. That demon had completely taken over his being.  
_  
Another day on set, another day of hiding in his trailer.

A long day of filming was waiting for him and Richard. It was a really nasty scene in which John Reid slaps Elton John across the face.  
Taron took a deep breath and left his trailer, ready to face the devil.

The devil was wearing a tailored suit that tightened around his body in all the right parts, the color of the fabric matching his eyes and highlighting the whiteness of his teeth.

It was the first time he had seen Richard since that night.

“Hey T,” Richard saluted him.

“Yeah, hi…” he returned the greeting without even looking at him. “Dex!”

He walked in the opposite direction, away from the demon and surrounded himself with the staff, keeping their attention with random topics like the economy or global warming.

He was able to avoid Richard until they had to get into position for the shoot.

“Taron, can we talk?” Richard asked, sitting next to him in the car.

“Not now, we’re about to start filming.”

“I know, I mean-”

“I’m already in character, Richard, so shut up.”

Fucking devil.

The slap was stronger than in the rehearsals, and he could see a strange light in Richard's eyes, mixed with that of his character.

He wasn’t hungry enough to eat lunch, so when Dexter called for a break he ran to his trailer hoping for some privacy, but instead he found someone there waiting for him.

“What are you doing here?“ Taron demanded.

“You’ve never asked me that before,” Richard protested.

“I’m asking you now. This is my space.”

“Why are you avoiding me?”

“I’m not.”

Taron entered the trailer and closed the door. He wanted to appear as relaxed as possible.

“Don’t play games with me,” Richard said, annoyed. ”You’ve lost once already.”

“This isn’t a game, and I’m not playing… It’s all your fault.”

“My fault?”

“You’re a fucking demon who got into my head.”

“Are you high? Have you been smoking crack?”

“You made me do things that I didn't want.”

“Oh, I can’t believe you, Taron.“

“This is all your fault!” he almost shouted.

“I know you keep saying that, but I also know you’re a grown up. Though that doesn’t mean you’re mature.”

“Get out of here, Richard.”

“I’m not leaving, Taron. Listen to me.”

“No! You listen to me… this, it’s... nothing happened, okay?”

Taron was getting so nervous he felt shaky, and a lump in his throat restricted his breathing.

“What?”

“It was a mistake. I’m straight.”

“What happened that night doesn’t change who you are.”

“Nothing happened!”

Tears welled in his eyes, and he felt angry at himself for not being able to contain them.

“I can’t believe this.” Richard said quietly, his eyes sad.

“Just go, okay? I want to be alone.”

“You look like a mess.”

Richard tried to get close to him but Taron backed away, creating distance with his hands.

“Because of you.”

“Stop blaming me for your own decisions, Taron… Why don't you go home and we can talk?”

“Oh no, no no no. I know what you’re up to.”

“You’re so paranoid.”

“Besides, I'm going out with my girlfriend tonight, so…”, lied

“Girlfriend? Since when?”

“We got back together a few days ago.”

“A few days ago I had your dick in my mouth.”

“Get out of my sight, Richard!”

“Why?”

“Why? I don’t need a ‘why’… GET OUT!”

He was shaking, and crying, and terrified… He had never felt so vulnerable in his life.

Richard took him into his arms and pulled him close to his body. 

“Look at you…” he murmured sweetly, wiping away tears with his thumb.

Richard put their foreheads together and rocked him gently, causing his breathing to slow.

Taron felt weak in his arms.

“I didn't think you would be so affected,” Richard said, squeezing him in his arms.

“I’m not.”

“Taron…”

“I’m not!” he shouted, shoving Richard away.

He couldn't look at Richard's face. He didn't want to see the betrayal in his eyes, the confusion in his expression.

“We were just having fun!” Richard tried to explain, “We did nothing wrong.”

“Just go, Richard.”

He felt Ricahrd’s blue gaze fixed on him, inspecting him, reading him, judging him.

A few moments passed in silence until, defeated, Richard brushed past him to leave the trailer.

“You’re right about one thing, T,” Richard spoke to him in the doorway, “that it was a mistake.” Then he shut the door behind him.

Once he was alone Taron was able to breathe again, and he cried- cried like someone who had just lost someone important in their life.

He had screwed everything up.  
_  
Taron lit a cigarette, thinking back to the conversation he had had with Elton and his husband.

They had tried to make him understand that sometimes life can surprise you. Life can put people in your path who get under your skin, and make you feel inexplicable things without being able to understand or control those feelings.

You can’t control love.

Well… screw love. At least he could control his life.

He searched through his phone and tapped the number he was looking for.

“Hello?” answered a sweet female voice.

“Hey, Em… How are you?”

“Hi Taron! I’m fine, and you?"

“Not so good. I'm still thinking about what happened last time.”

“Oh, don’t worry. Shit happens.”

“Well… I just want a chance to make it right.” He felt so stupid. “Would you like to go to dinner?”

“Yeah… Sure.”

“Great! Is tomorrow okay?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, see you then.”

“See you.”

“Bye, beautiful.”

Yes… he was back in control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... do you guys think Taron is really in control?, he already had a taste of the devil.
> 
> Let me know.
> 
> Till next chapter;)


	3. A night at the museum.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taron has a really dirty mouth, and Richard doesn't like it.... or does he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to pilotofmysoul.tumblr.com for beta reading, you're the best!!!

There was one thing Richard was never going to know: Taron missed him like crazy.

Sometimes his chest ached. It usually happened when he woke up after a dream about Richard- another thing he was never going to know.  
_  
Richard's departure from the set left Taron with a bittersweet feeling. On the one hand, he was relieved he no longer had to hide in his trailer to avoid Richard, but on the other hand, he felt a huge emptiness filled with loneliness and anguish.

Richard did not attend the closing party as he had already left for L.A. for work. The party was all music, laughter, alcohol, and anecdotes, but Taron was unable to enjoy any of it. It was the same in many aspects of his life.

He thought about Richard all the time.

Suddenly, Dexter climbed into the DJ booth and cut the music, raising ‘boos’ from the crowd.

“If I may have your attention, someone is on the line and wants to greet you all.”

Dexter put his phone up to the mic and the voice that came through the speakers gripped his heart- almost stopped it.

“How’s the Rocketband?” Richard’s voice was projected loudly around the room.

Everyone clapped and shouted. Some people began to sing in chorus, "The King in the North, the King in the North,'' which caused Richard to laugh, and the anguish that Taron felt in his chest rose to his throat.

He went to the bathroom, he needed to be alone. Sitting on the toilet, he held his head in his hands, going crazy with pain.

“Fucking demon”, he muttered.

They had not spoken once Richard had finished filming. He had let an impulse ruin a beautiful friendship and he hated himself for it.  
Many times he had an urge to call him, but had thrown the phone down and run to the gym, a friend's house, or his girlfriend's house.

He loved her. She made him feel good, she made him laugh and kept him company… she affirmed his heterosexuality, she made him feel safe. But when he was alone again, all his thoughts were directed towards one person.

Richard had consumed his entire body and mind.

He heard the loud music start up again, and pulled his phone from his pocket. He hesitated for a moment, until he couldn't take it anymore. He dialed. 

One, two, three… he was getting anxious, four tones.

“Hey,” answered a voice on the other end, like a sigh.

“Hello Rich.”

“How are you?”

“I’m good. You know, I couldn't hear you very well with all the screaming.”

“It sounds like they’re having fun.”

“Yeah well... it's a deserved celebration.”

There was a silence on both sides. He didn't know how to go on or what to say, and he suspected that Richard was feeling the same.

“What have you been doing?” Taron asked.

“Couple of meetings about a new project.”

“Sounds important.”

“It is, but I can't say anything yet.”

There was another silence on both ends, and he heard a deep sigh full of tiredness and pain, similar to the one he let out as well.

“Are we okay?” Taron asked.

“You tell me, T.”

“I want my friend back.”

“I’m right here. Far away, actually, but... you understand.”

“Yeah, I know.”

He was going to speak again, but then he heard the voice of a man on the other end address Richard, causing all his hairs to stand on end like a furious cat ready to attack. 

He knew so fucking well who he was.

“Gotta go, T,” Richard said. “I'm glad you called.”

“Yeah, okay. Bye.”

“Bye.”

He already knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep even if he was tired, so after the party he went to the 24-hour gym, and the punching bag suffered the consequences of all his frustration.  
-  
Taron was chilling with his girlfriend at his apartment. The next day he would leave for the United States and not return for two weeks.

“Hey babe, can I ask you a question?” he asked.

“Sure,” she replied, without taking her eyes off her phone.

“Who’s your girl crush?”

She stopped typing and looked at him strangely.

“What kind of question is that?”

“I just want to know.”

“You’d better put any crazy ideas out of your head.”

“It’s not that at all. I just want to know.”

She thought for a moment, then sighed.

“Lana Del Rey, I guess.”

“She’s awesome.”

“She is.”

“If the opportunity arose, would you let yourself be kissed by her?”

His girlfriend looked at him strangely again and he scrambled to clear up any misunderstandings.

“Why can't we have conversation about sex? I’m just curious.”

“...No, I wouldn't”

“Why not?”

“Because I think I would like it too much.”

“Like in the song ‘I kissed a girl’?”

“It’s not just something sexual. I really like everything about her- her voice, her personality. If I let her kiss me, I might end up falling in love.”

“What's wrong with that?”

“I don't think I'm brave enough to face those feelings.”

Shit... that hit very close to home.

“Do you know who’s to blame for instilling all these fantasies in society?” she asked.

“Who?”

“The pornography industry.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Oh yes. They show you how great it is to realize your sexual fantasies. Most of them are patriarchal, of course, and they never show you the consequences.”

“Like threesomes.”

“Well, it’s only socially acceptable if it’s between two women and one man”

“You sound like an activist… I like it.”

“It has to be said, it's a couple’s thing, and yet I think at least one will always get hurt.”

Taron was silent for several seconds, processing what he just heard.

“You’re so smart, babe,” he said, finally.

“Well... what can I say? I just know.”

Taron laughed and hugged her tightly. He was really going to miss her, as you miss a very best friend.  
_

The Met Gala was the fashion event of the year. It was his first year attending, but that’s not why he was nervous about it. He was nervous because he knew Richard would be there too.

He got ready and his stylist took some photographs, but when he opened Instagram to upload a few... he saw a photo of Richard.

The devil was preparing to bend everyone to his will.

The red carpet was usually fun: take some pictures here and there, say ‘hello’. But instead Taron walked as fast as he could, looking from side to side as if someone were chasing him.

The first thing he did once he entered the building was to ask for alcohol. He was going to need it.

Everything was so opulent and grand, full of people in exaggerated dresses. He was still getting used to that ostentatious part of his life.

A hand came to rest gently on his shoulder and a jolt of electricity ran through his body.

Who else could it be?

He turned to face him, like a brave warrior facing his demons... his demon.

He felt nauseous and dizzy, his stomach turned as if he had thousands of butterflies trapped inside. His heart raced, his forehead and hands felt slick with sweat.

He had never seen a more beautiful man in his entire life.

"Hey, mate," Richard said with a big smile.

"Ey…” He needed one more drink.

That was the only thing he managed to say, and he tensed when Richard gave him a quick hug. ‘Fuck!’ Taron thought. He smelled so good.

“It’s so good to see you. How are you?”

“Ermm, I… I’m good.”

“You look amazing!”

“Yeah, you look… great!”

‘Focus, goddammit,’ he told himself.

“I need a drink,” Taron said, plotting his escape.

“Yeah, me too. Come on.”

Fucking devil.

Richard began talking about his new projects and life in L.A., but Taron couldn't hear him due to the loud music, and because he was too distracted by looking at him.

How could he be so perfect? 

God... he wanted to kiss him right then and there, and feel that beard all over him. Richard didn’t have a beard when they had kissed during filming, and not that night either. He wanted to tangle his fingers again in that hair combed so well, he wanted to see it, messy, between his legs.

Shit, he was getting hard.

“Hey, Taron… are you listening to me?” Richard asked.

“Yes, of course I am.”

Taron downed another drink from the bar. He was already losing count.

"You look thirsty," Richard said.

"I fucking am."

"Are you going to blame me for that too?"

Taron couldn’t answer. Richard set his empty glass on the bar and left with an almost imperceptible smile on his beautiful face.

His gaze was fixed on Richard for the next few hours, watching as he seduced anyone who stood before him. Richard was like a black hole that attracts and consumes everything around it.

He watched as a young man approached Richard and handed him a drink. Taron didn't recognize him, but he was very handsome and he seemed to be a model. 

They started dancing together while they talked, the young man taking advantage of any excuse to touch Richard on the shoulder or arm. He even leaned close and whispered in his ear.

Taron was very close to popping the glass in his hand.

Richard laughed and danced. He was having the time of his life, like the gorgeous being he was.

He never considered himself a violent person, but at that moment he felt the urge to go to where they were dancing and break the perfect nose on that boy.

He couldn't stand it anymore.

He took two steps forward and the whole place began to spin. He stepped back and caught himself with the bar.

It was at that moment that he saw Richard and the young man walking towards the exit... Oh hell no, he would not allow it. He didn't care about his dizziness, or the lights, or the heat, or the amount of people he shoved aside without apologizing.

He caught Richard violently by the arm and turned him so they faced each other.

“You know what?” he hissed. “It’s also your fault. Yes, IT IS!”

"Grow up, Taron," Richard replied, prying off his fingers.

“Dude, what is wrong with you?” the young man scoffed.

“Shut the fuck up, moron!” Taron snapped at him.

Taron had begun to attract the attention of people nearby, and Richard did not want to be the subject of a scandal.

"I'm so sorry, Patrick," he apologized to the young man. "We'll talk later."

"Ohh… no you won't."

"Shut up Taron!"

Richard pulled him out of the building.

"Look at the state you’re in, it's embarrassing!” he said.

They walked down an elegant marble corridor which had some guests lingering about, but was not as crowded as the main hall.

"Can you slow down?” Taron asked, as the corridor spun around him.

"No! I'm not going to slow down, you disgusting drunk."

“Hey, don't call me that. I'm not that drunk, I know what I'm doing.”

“No you don’t. You don’t know shit, Taron.”

"Really, can you please slow down?"

“I can't believe this. You made a scene back there and we could have been recorded! I warn you, Taron, if something comes out in the press I will kill you. Do you hear me? ”

“Nothing is going to be in the press, nobody noticed. Stop being so dramatic and slow down!”

"Listen to me…” Richard said, stopping at last and turning to face him.

"Wait... where the hell are we?" said Taron, looking around, confused.

They both looked around at the place. It was spacious and a bit scary. It seemed as though they had traveled far back, to another time in history. They should not be here. This area of the museum was surely out-of-bounds for guests.

Suddenly, they spied two guards in the distance that were patrolling the place. Richard took Taron by the arm and shoved him inside the first door he found.

They were both breathing heavily, and had to lean against the door for a few minutes to catch their breath. They inspected the room- it seemed to be an exhibit of ancient artifacts. Everything was dark except for light that illuminated the art on the walls and in showcases. The ambiance was warm and dim.

"It's been years since I was in a museum," Richard said.

“Interesting,” Taron said in a flat tone.

Richard turned and fixed his blue eyes on his, causing a chill down his spine.

Alone with the devil.

"What happened in there?” Richard asked.

"I didn't want to see you with that boy," he spat. Damn alcohol.

"Oh yeah, why not?"

“Because I was jealous.”

"Well, I wasn't expecting that confession from your repressed and in-denial mouth," he said, approaching him. "It seems that alcohol does do magic on you."

"Last time I wasn’t drunk, and neither am I now."

"Last time? I thought nothing happened. You said that."

"Sometimes I say bullshit."

“Well, I must agree with that.”

Fuck it! He couldn’t control himself with Richard in front of him.

“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” Taron confessed.

He stepped in closer but Richard pushed him away.

"You're drunk."

"I'm not."

“Look, Taron, I don't want to go through this again. I’m not your toy.”

“What? You’re not a toy to me.”

"What am I then?"

“You… you’re my boy crush.”

"Oh, please."

"I think about you all the time. I’ve tried to deny what happened but I remember everything. I still feel everything, and I want to feel it again because it felt so fucking good."

"You said it was a mistake. Tomorrow you’ll say that again, but with a horrible headache."

“Maybe… but I don’t care about tomorrow, I care about now.”

Taron approached again, but this time Richard didn't push him away.

The kiss was hungry from the beginning.

Taron's back slammed into the door and he moaned when he felt Richard's full body press against him.

"You're already hard," Richard observed.

“I’ve been hard since I saw your post on Instagram.”

Richard smiled, moving against his hardness.

“Your beard feels good,” Taron murmured. 

Richard kissed him again, much more slowly this time, savoring the contact, softness, and warmth. Then everything got sloppier when their tongues slipped out of their mouths to wrestle with each other.

It was the most erotic kiss of his life.

"Holy shit!" Taron moaned.

“Do you kiss your mum with that dirty little mouth?” Richard replied, biting Taron’s lower lip.

"Shit!"

“Shut up and keep kissing me."

And so he did. He took Richard’s face in his hands and licked the lips and tongue that were waiting for him to continue.  
He moaned when he felt Richard's hand caress his erection that was tenting the expensive fabric of his pants.

The alcohol had caused his hands to fall asleep. It felt like ants on his fingers as he struggled to unbutton Richard's belt and drop his pants to the floor.

Richard kissed his cheek and glued him more firmly to the door.

“Shhh... take it easy,” Richard whispered.

Richard left a trail of soft kisses down his jawline and his neck. He took the tip of the ribbon tied around Taron’s collar and pulled to unite it... with his teeth.

Taron had to stifle a moan at that.

Taron's pants joined Richard's on the floor and little by little the buttons of their shirts parted, revealing warm skin that awaited anxious lips.

Taron's breathing accelerated as Richard left kisses on his neck and chest. After a hesitation, he decided to tangle his hands in Richard’s hair and destroy the hairstyle that would have taken his hairdresser hours to perfect. 

“I love your hair,” he said with a sigh.

“Oh yeah?” Richard replied, kissing his chest.

“I love your beard on my skin.”

“You’re so soft,” he replied, moving his attentions to Taron’s stomach.

“I love feeling your tongue.”

“I’ve noticed,” he replied, tugging aside his underwear.

“I love your mouth on my dick.”

“I know.”

Taron held his breath as he felt Richard's warm mouth envelope him.

“I love you...”

The alcohol in his blood had made him more sensitive to physical contact and sensations. He was levitating in that dimly-lit room, surrounded by ancient and valuable objects.

He thought he had said something just then, but he wasn’t sure if he had said it out loud or in his head. Richard kept up his magnificent, unperturbed work, so whatever he said Richard must not have heard.

“You’re so good at this,” he moaned.

He felt Richard's hands all over his body again, just like that first night. They felt like little creatures walking over his skin, sweating alcohol and desire.

“Holy shit.”

Richard stood up and put his hand against Taron’s neck.

“Enough with those dirty words.”

“Hey- don’t stop!”

“I want to do something that I couldn't do last time”.

“What?”

“Watch your face when you come.”

“Oh fuck!”

Richard tightened his hold around his neck as punishment for disobeying his previous request.

“Sorry,” Taron said in a choked whisper.

“Touch me and I’ll forgive you”.

“Eh?”

“You heard me. Touch me, I already have blue-balls”.

Taron realized then how selfish he had been, always thinking of his pleasure and never of Richard's.

“I… I don’t…”

“There’s always a first time”.

Richard took one of Taron’s hands and guided it to his own erection, making Taron gasp in surprise and anticipation.

“A man knows what a man likes, remember?”

“Yes.”

So Taron did it. He slid his hand inside Richard's underwear and for the first time touched a dick that wasn’t his own... When he saw the expression of pleasure and relief on Richard's face, however, he regretted not having done it sooner.

“Yeah, that's right.”

The sighs from them both mixed in the air as they masturbated each other like two horny teenagers, face-to-face, and the best part was that he could continue tasting Richard’s tongue in that position.

“You’ve found a new kink,” Richard said, smiling.

“More than one.”

Richard moaned when Taron sped up the rhythm of his hand. Taron watched his face full of pleasure, eyes closed, flushed cheeks, his lips swollen and shiny with Taron’s saliva. He felt stupid that he ever thought Richard had looked his most beautiful before this moment.

“Come here.”

Richard put their hips close and arranged one dick on top of the other in his hand.

“Shit!... Sorry.”

“Help me out here, dirty-mouth.”

Taron tried to imitate the movements of Richard's hand, but he felt so clumsy from the new sensations.

“I’m close,” Richard said.

Taron couldn't stop staring at him. The devil was the most beautiful and lustful thing on the planet and when he saw his face as he came, with a smile and a soft moan, something in his brain broke.

Richard was more than a boy crush… He loved everything about him.

His own orgasm erased those thoughts and he hugged Richard's body, collapsed over his against the door.  
_

They fixed their clothes and hair, and cautiously left the exhibit towards the hall. They walked in comfortable silence down the hall until Taron suddenly realized he had forgotten something.

“My western bow-tie!” he almost shouted.

“Your what?”

“I forgot it on the floor.”

“Taron, It’s just a ribbon.”

“No, it’s not-”

Suddenly, a loud voice made them jump with fright.

“Gentlemen!” said one of the two guards. “You can’t be in here.”

“I’m so sorry, sir, we got lost,'' Richard explained.

“It’s alright. The event is in that direction.”

“Thank you so much, and please accept our apologies again.”

Shit... Richard’s good education, manners, and language were making him hard again.

They walked silently to the doors of the event, where everything remained the same as they had left it, with everyone dancing, talking, drinking, and ignoring everything.

“I need a drink,'' Richard said.

They approached the bar and ordered two whiskeys.

“So...” said Taron, “do you want to go to the hotel?”

“What for?”

“What do you think?” he asked in a suggestive tone.

“I don't think it's a good idea.”

“Why not? I won’t say anything rude, I promise.”

“It’s not that at all.”

“Then what is it? I know you don't like it, and I’m sorry, really.”

“I do like it when you say rude things.”

“Sooo..?”

“I don't like it when you say things that you don't truly feel.”

There was pain in Richard’s eyes. He left his drink on the bar and departed without another word.  
Taron stayed stiff at the bar, confused and thoughtful.

“You stupid idiot,” he told himself.

He had said something in that moment of pleasure and clouded judgment... something he did not remember, and that Richard had heard… but what?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know anything about Taron's gf, so she's basically me, lol. I know a bit more about Richard's bf, but I'm not gonna use either of them too much or their names... respect, you know. 
> 
> Next chapter very soon.
> 
> So... who's your Boy crush/Girl crush??


	4. Do I wanna know?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richard is one of those guys who likes to use emojis.
> 
> Do I wanna know? by Artic Monkeys... what a song!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to pilotofmysoul.tumblr.com for edit the chapter.

He didn’t panic this time. On the contrary, Taron saw everything clear as day.

The first thing he did was to text Richard, to make sure he knew that he was not going to deny what happened in the museum, that he remembered it, and that he would like to do it again... although he still didn’t remember everything he had said.

"Good morning," he typed, "I wish you’d woken up next to me."

The answer came minutes later, but it was not what Taron had expected. Richard responded with an emoji. He had chosen the little emoji with a hand over its mouth, laughing and blushing.

What the hell was that?

“Do you want to hang out this afternoon?”

“Can’t. I have an important meeting”

“And what about after the meeting?”

Taron received another emoji in response, the one with a tear falling from its eye.

What the fuck does that mean?

He decided to interpret it as either Richard not wanting to talk to him, or being too busy. Anyway, it would be best to start the day with a smile, remembering every detail of the previous night... and trying to remember what the hell he had said.  
_  
Two weeks later, it was clear that Richard was avoiding him. He didn't answer his calls, and the messages were too few, too short, and always with those damn emojis.

Taron was not going back to England without talking to him.

Richard answered during his attempt number twelve.

“What the hell, T?’” Richard almost shouted. “I was in an important meeting and my phone kept buzzing.”

“I wanted to talk to you! You're ignoring me.”

“I’m not, I’m just busy.”

“I just want to talk.”

“Then let’s talk.”

“I mean… I want to see you, and talk.”

“I’m in L.A.”

“Fuck, Richard!...” After saying this, he realized his mistake. “Sorry.”

“It’s not always about what YOU want, Taron.”

“It’s just…”

“All you’re saying is: ‘I want, I want, I want’… Well, what about what I want?”

“And what do you want, Richard?”

“Time, Taron… I want time,” he breathed, sounding tired. “There’s a lot going on, and I need time.”

Taron didn't know how to answer. He knew that sometimes he could be very intense, which made selfishly focused on his own needs.

“Are you okay?”

“I will be… with time.”

“I miss you.”

“You’ll be fine, Taron,” he replied, then simply hung up.

What the hell did he say?!  
_  
The Rocketman madness was about to begin, and he was so excited.

Those intervening months were hard, but little by little Richard was disappearing from his thoughts... bullshit, who was he trying to fool? He still thought about him every minute of the day.

Sometimes he would upload unnecessary stories on Instagram just to check if Richard watched them, or a photo and wait for Richard to like it, and only then could he sleep with a smile on his face.

He was trying on the outfit that he would wear to the premiere when one of his PR guys handed him two passes for the event.

"I’m only going with my mum," he said, confused.

"We think it's better if you go with your girlfriend too."

"Well... I'm not sure if she’ll want to."

"She is your girlfriend, isn't she?"

"Well yeah, but..."

“It will be for the best, Taron. The movie has gay scenes that will have people talking and we don't want them… spreading gossip that can hurt your career, you know?”

"No, I don't really know, actually."

“Just go with her too. It's for your own good.”

“But why…?”

“Just in case.”

It was at that moment, Taron felt for the first time that this experience might not be quite as wonderful as he was hoping.  
_  
Taron finally saw him after many months. He looked relaxed, smiling, and beautiful.

Richard locked eyes with him amongst the crowd, and walked towards him with a smile. When he reached him he hugged him tightly, and Taron felt like a rehabilitated addict back on his drug of choice.

“It’s so good to see you, T,” Richard said.

Taron wanted to spill a lot of things he had bottled up in his chest, but then was not the time or place.

"Glad to see you’re well, my friend."

“I am, and I’m happy to be back.”

"There’s no place like home."

“I’ll stay in my apartment and see my family. This is very exciting.”

“It is.”

"I am nervous though."

"Don't be. I'll be by your side."

He didn’t recall ever attending such a premiere in his short career, and he felt on the top of the world. He took every opportunity to touch Richard, to hug him and kiss him. No seemed to suspect anything, but he did see Elton's husband looking at him curiously on more than one occasion.

The afterparty was insane, just like the premiere. Everyone was excited, he had just sung a duet with Elton, and he was still shaking... but trembled when he saw Richard's blue eyes on him, his breath caught in his throat.

“I’m going home, babe,'' said his girlfriend.

“What? It’s so early.”

“Yes, I know… I told you, I have an important meeting tomorrow.”

“But this night is important too. You must stay.”

She looked at him in a way that made him remember why they had broken up in the first place.

“Look, Taron, I don't revolve around you, I have my own life and my own job. I thought I made that clear last time.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, we’ll talk tomorrow.”

She kissed him quickly and left the party without a backwards glance.

“What a strong personality!” Richard exclaimed from behind.

Taron felt his body vibrate as he felt Richard’s breath very close to his ear.

Richard looked at him with a smile and a strange glow in his eyes, and suddenly the whole atmosphere felt heavy.

"I came to say goodbye," Richard said. "I'm leaving."

“You too? But it’s so early!”

“I know, but I have plans.”

“Plans? What… Actually, sorry, it's none of my business.”

"Are we okay?” Richard asked, moving closer.

Taron stopped breathing.

“I think so, yeah.”

"Great, I don't want any bad feelings between us… We had a good time."

“Fuck yeah!” He paused. “And I’m not going to apologize for my language.”

“I know… I like it, remember?”

Taron had to bite his lip so that what he was thinking didn't slip out… Shit, he just wanted to suck Richard’s soft tongue out of his mouth again.

“See you around.”

They hugged and Taron could swear he felt him tremble.  
_  
He was at the bar playing with the mark his drink had left on the wood.

"How is the big star all by himself?" David asked.

Elton’s husband sat next to him and ordered the same thing he was having.

“It's complicated.”

"Richard?"

"Bingo."

“Well, I can see why you’re crazy for him. He’s a snack.”

“Elton might hear you.”

“Oh, he knows… and he thinks the same.”

Taron laughed- it was probably the first time he had done so since Richard left.

“Where’s he now?”

“He left, he said he had plans.”

“Oh well… so what happened between you two?”

“We got drunk… Well, actually I was a bit drunk, but fully conscious… We, ehh… had sex.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and I said something that I don’t remember, and he’s kind of mad about it.”

"Why don't you ask him what you said?"

“Because after what happened he asked me for some time to think. And because I’d already made so many mistakes.”

"But time has passed, he looks great, and if you don't ask him now you might never know."

“I don’t know, David.”

“You don’t know?... Or you don’t want to know?”

Taron wasn’t so sure anymore.  
_  
Taron was driving on the streets of London. Outside it was dark, cold and raining, which matched his mood.

Suddenly a familiar melody began to play on the radio, and he turned the volume up. 

"Yeah!" he shouted. 

That bass sounded so good, and he started to sing along- impossible not to do.

“Have you got color in your cheeks  
Do you ever get the feeling that you can't shift the tide  
That sticks around like something's in your teeth  
And some aces up your sleeve  
I had no idea that you're in deep  
I dreamt about you near me every night this week…”

Taron stopped singing and listened carefully to the song... the lyrics seemed to describe his current situation pretty well.

“Crawlin’ back to you”

That happened with Richard. He would crawl back to him, always, just to see him one more time, for one more caress, for one more kiss.

"Do I wanna know?"

Taron accelerated the car in the direction of Richard's apartment.

“That the nights were mainly made for saying  
things that you can't say tomorrow day”

His hand was shaking as he rang the doorbell of Richard’s apartment, and was surprised to hear the door unlock. Was he waiting for him?  
He wasted no time entering, and the elevator ride up was the longest of his life. But he had barely adjusted his hair and suit when he heard the music inside the apartment- it was the same song that had taken him there. Richard was listening to the same song at the same time. It had to be a sign.

He does want to know.

He knocked on the door three times, and after a few seconds Richard opened with a big smile... a smile that died as soon as he saw who it was.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, confused, almost scared.

Taron didn’t know what to say. Suddenly he felt like sinking into the ground. Richard already had plans, he was waiting for someone, and that someone wasn't him.

"I… I'm sorry."

He began to walk back to the elevator when he heard Richard's voice.

"Wait... come back, I didn't mean to be rude."

Taron entered the apartment and saw that everything was neat and clean, just as he remembered. Richard turned off the music and everything was silent. He could have cut the tension with a knife. He glanced at Richard. He was wearing jeans and a black shirt, his hair was wet and he had shaved.

He was crazy for that man.

"What did I say that night?" Taron asked bluntly.

"What?"

“That night at the museum, what did I say?”

"It doesn't matter anymore."

"I want to know, please."

Richard hesitated a moment, then spoke.

“You said you loved me.”

"What?"

"See?... You don't even remember!"

“No, I do remember that! I thought it was something else. I know I said ‘I love you’.”

Richard stared at him, surprised, almost in shock.

“You remember?” he asked.

“Of course I do, I told you I wasn’t that drunk. I remember everything.”

“You can't just say something like that!"

"Why not? It's what I feel."

"You don’t love me."

“I love everything about you.”

"It's not the same thing, Taron!"

“I think about you all the time, I dream about you… I want…”

Taron wanted to approach and take him in his arms.

"Stop, stop right there." Richard said, putting distance between them.

“Richard, I do feel things for you.”

“You have no idea how many straight men have told me the same thing.”

“Well fuck off, I’m not them.”

“Yes, you are, Taron. You think you love me, but really I just turn you on.”

“You’re much more than that to me, Richard.”

“It’s like having déjà vu, you know?”

“Let me prove it to you.”

“Oh yeah? And what are you going to do? Upload a photo to Instagram, give an interview? Leave your girlfriend?”

“Well no. I was thinking something more intimate and private.”

“Like a dirty little secret.”

Taron was felt like he was losing. Everything Richard said to him pushed him further and further away and left him without weapons to fight for him.

“It wouldn't be a secret to the people closest to us, the right people, the people that are important to us. But it would be a private relationship because it’s nobody's business but ours.”

“I already have something like that.”

Taron felt like his heart had been ripped out with one hand.

"He's so lucky."

"I'm lucky too."

Now his heart was on the floor, being trampled by those expensive tennis shoes.

Taron decided that it was time to save some dignity, he must surely have some left in his body. He put on a smile of understanding and hit his head, accepting defeat.

He was walking to the door when he felt a hand on his arm.

"I'm so sorry, T,” Richard said.

"I know."

"I didn't want anything like this to happen."

Adrenaline surged through Taron’s body by having Richard so close. They were both vulnerable. 

He took Richard gently by the face and forced him to look him in the eyes, because deep down he knew that Richard felt the same things for him. The devil was such a good actor.

But his eyes don’t lie.

"Look at me,” he demanded. “Do you believe me when I say that I love you?”

Taron and Richard couldn't contain it anymore. They kissed just there, driven by a force much stronger than their willpower.  
He felt at home in his arms, he felt relief, he felt right. His lips, on Richard’s lips, were in the right place.

“Stop… stop,” Richard begged, breaking the kiss. “Stop it!”

Taron was about to protest and demand an explanation for stopping such a beautiful kiss, but then someone at the door knocked impatiently.

Richard looked at him in a panic, and Taron saw how he adjusted his clothes, his hair, and wiped his mouth with his hand, as if what they had just done was something dirty.

Richard opened the door and a beautiful boy, with a big smile and a suitcase beside him, threw himself into Richard’s arms.

“Rich!” He yelled. “Finally, thank God.”

Taron looked away when the boy kissed Richard on the lips without noticing his presence.

Richard reciprocated, but then pulled away and looked to Taron.

"Oh... I'm sorry," the boy said. "I didn't know you were with someone."

"Taron was just leaving."

"Oh my god!” The boy said enthusiastically. "It's so nice to meet you, I'm..."

“I know who you are.”

“Really? Wow… big fan here.”

“Thanks.”

“Your suit is amazing, you look great.”

The atmosphere was so thick that if Taron spent another minute in there he would drown.

“Is everything okay?” Asked the cute boy.

“Oh yes! The premiere was amazing,” Richard replied.

“I know! I was watching a lot of videos on Instagram.” He turned back to Taron. “Congratulations!”

“Thanks.”

“You totally deserve an Oscar nomination. You were incredible.”

“Thanks.”

Brandon glanced at Richard awkwardly under Taron's penetrating gaze.

"Well... as I was saying, mate,” Richard said, “You should go talk to her, maybe buy some flowers."

Taron looked at Richard and finally snapped out of his trance. The spell of Richard's kisses was not easily overcome.

"Perhaps."

"You'll see, women like that kind of thing."

"I wouldn't know,” the boy said and laughed genuinely, but Richard's smile was the most feigned and uncomfortable thing he’d seen in a long time.

"Good luck, T."

"Yeah, I guess."

They went out into the corridor, leaving the boy inside the apartment. Out of sight, Taron pounced into his arms and wrapped him in a big hug.

“Send me your answer by WhatsApp… I do want to know.”

Richard did not answer, he just went back inside, keeping his eyes on the floor.  
_  
Taron was smoking on the balcony again. On what was the most important night of his career he should be happy, at a party, surrounded by good people... But there he was, sunk in such an acute anguish that it made his chest ache.

His phone buzzed next to him. It was Richard.

The screen showed only a lone emoji.

A broken heart.

That experience might not be quite wonderful after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I warned you guys I was a drama bitch... until next chepter :)


	5. Willpower.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taron needs to use all his willpower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to pilotofmysoul.tumblr.com for edit the chapter.

Elton John woke up quietly in the middle of the night, his arms wrapped around his husband, his husband hugging their eldest son.  
Suddenly, the security console next to his bed began to emit a soft vibration and a red light came on.

"Yes?" he whispered. 

“Sir, Nathan from security,” said a voice through the console.

“What is it?”

"Sir, a young man just tried to jump the wall on the south side."

"Well, call the police then."

“The young man is the actor, sir. The one who played you.”

"What?"

“He seems to be very drunk, sir.”

Elton sat up in bed and ran a hand over his face, trying to understand the situation.

“Where is he now?”

"He is with us in the surveillance booth, sir."

"Do me a favor: bring him to the front door."

“Right away, sir.”

Elton got out of bed, put on his slippers, his robe, and a pair of glasses. He left the room slowly, without disturbing the dreams of his husband and son.

When he opened the front door he met Nathan, who had brought Taron wrapped in a blanket.

The kid looked like shit.

There was something about Taron's appearance... and his smell, that reminded him of his youth. And he wasn't happy about it.

"Thank you, Nathan. I'll take care of this."

"Ohh... they got me..." Taron mumbled.

"Shhh... Come with me." Elton ushered him inside.  
_

It was three o'clock in the morning and Taron had already vomited twice. Elton was sitting on the couch, watching him finish his glass of water.

"Oh, Elton. I'm so sorry,” Taron apologized.

"What the hell happened to you, kid?"

“A couple of things... you know?”

“No, I don’t. Why don’t you tell me?”

At that moment David came down the stairs, finding them together in the living room.

"What happened?" David asked.

"Taron is drunk as fuck and tried to jump the wall on the south side."

"He has you that bad, huh?"

"Who?" Elton asked.

“His gorgeous co-star.”

David sat next to Elton and they both looked to Taron, waiting for him to decide to spill everything.

"I needed to talk to you guys, so bad.”

“You could’ve just called, and not jumped the wall. Nathan can kick your ass.”

Taron set the glass of water on the table and settled into the couch, ready to let everything off his chest.

"I think I love him,” he confessed.

"You think?" Elton asked.

"I'm not sure if I love him, or if he just turns me on."

“Kid… that’s a hell of a difference!”

“I think about him all the time, I can't contain myself when I'm in front of him, I want to touch him and kiss him so badly… my chest hurts.”

"But?"

“He’s with someone else.”

“Do you really want to be with him? Because as far as I remember, you came back with your girlfriend.”

"I was so scared after our first… encounter. I panicked, I denied everything... I was so cowardly, so immature."

"That’s normal for a ‘straight’ man."

"Apparently Richard has had several bad experiences with straight men, and he thinks that I’m just like those men who hurt him, and he doesn't believe me when I tell him that I love him."

"You told him that you loved him?" David asked, in shock.

"...Yeah."

“That’s a very strong word, boy!” Elton warned. “Don't say it unless you're 100 percent certain.”

"You can hurt someone with that word," added David.

“I screwed everything up.”

At that moment, a child peeked down the stairs, calling for Dad. David said goodbye to Taron and left his husband alone with his alter ego.

"Listen to me, Taron," Elton stated firmly. "Anything I tell you, or any advice I try to give... you won't listen."

"Of course I’ll listen to you!"

"No you won’t, kid... because once Richard is in front of you again, you will have forgotten everything."

Taron had to concede that point- his devil makes him lose his mind.

“You will stay here, in the guest room, and you will rest.”

"Thank you, Elton."

"You will have to talk to Richard and clarify absolutely everything, and only then can you move on, only then will you understand what you feel."

"I'll see him in a few weeks, in New York."

“Don’t overthink too much until that day.”

"I'll try."

Elton guided Taron to one of the guest rooms, and advised him to shower and put on some clean clothes. He assured him that he could stay as long as he wanted, and he would always be welcome.

“One last thing, Taron,” he said. “You don't choose who you fall in love with… and it never happens like it should.”

Elton knew that Taron would be left with that phrase stuck in his head. He just hoped Taron would be able to understand what was happening inside of him, because it’s very ugly to suffer for love, or for what we think love is. He knew this well.  
_

Taron landed in New York, feeling like a new man after making some life decisions.

He knew he was going to see Richard again, but he wasn’t nervous. Instead, he felt happy and excited to see his mates again and to enjoy the trip, because one of the decisions he made was that he would let nothing would ruin the beautiful experience that Rocketman was.

He and Richard had exchanged a few messages since they last saw each other, and all had been as friendly and polite as any message between castmates. 

They didn't talk about that night. They both knew that everything had been clear, that Richard had made his decision.  
Taron was going down to the hotel restaurant when he saw him. All the sensations he usually felt with Richard were still there, but this time he had them under control.

Much of that self-control he had developed from his therapy sessions. He had found a magnificent psychologist who was helping him to understand his feelings.

Then Richard saw him, and smiled.

He ALMOST had everything under control.

They met in the middle of the room and hugged each other, and looked into each other's eyes.

“It’s so good to see you, T.”

“It’s so good to see you too.”

Richard smiled and stroked his cheek. It was a friendly gesture of fraternity, but Taron's heart still burned.

They decided to eat together and catch up, pretending as if nothing had happened between them and that they were good friends, as they once were. Maybe they could still recover that camaraderie from the early days.

“The Capital of the World, my friend! It’s gonna be huge,” Richard said.

"I know, what more can a young single man ask for?"

"Single? Did I miss something?"

"We broke up... I don't know why I thought it would work this time if it didn't work the first time."

"Well, sometimes it just works."

“Not this time.”

"Are you okay?"

“Oh yes. But my PR team is angry.”

“Why?”

"They think she gave me... security, in case the press speculated about my sexuality based on the scenes in the movie."

"I can't believe that shit keeps happening... but you’re right, that’s what they do."

"Did something like this happen to you?"

"Oh yes, Hollywood makes-believe that it’s very free and open, but that’s all bullshit."

"When did it happen?"

“A few days ago, actually. I just signed a contract that has a privacy clause.”

“Fuck! Must be something huge.”

“It is.”

"Aren't you going to tell me?"

"I'm not supposed to say anything yet."

"Come on! It's me."

“I’ll only say one word, with which you will understand everything.”

Taron moved closer, eager to hear what he had to say.

"Marvel."

"Holy shit!"

"Shh... Shut up, okay?"

“My lips are sealed. That’s so exciting!”

"It is... but it has its consequences."

"What does your boyfriend think about it?"

Richard looked at him with a resigned expression and shrugged.

"He knows it's a great opportunity for me."

"Of course."

"Besides... It's nobody's business but ours."

Taron looked at him and smiled. He encouraged himself to touch Richard’s hand on the table as a supportive gesture, but also remembering when he had said the same thing to Richard.  
_

He was so proud of his outfit- the jacket was insane.

Alcohol flowed from every corner of that party... among other things. It was normal to see all kinds of drugs at these kinds of parties, but Taron ignored them, although he had been tempted.

Several photos were taken of them together, some solo, and others with different members of the cast and crew.

He uploaded a photo with Richard and Jamie to his Instagram story. The photo had come out magnificently and he wanted to share it with the world.

He was talking quietly with Jamie when the first chords of a song well known to him began to play, making people at the party holler and rush the dance floor.

Taron finished his drink and was on his way to get another, but a body prevented his passage. In front of him, two blue eyes were staring into his and he felt firm hands on his hips.

"I love this song," Richard said.

That was the song that was playing in the apartment the night he made the decision to confess his love- the same night Richard rejected him and chose someone else.

That song caused him pain.

"Yeah, me too."

Richard began to move to the beat, flush against his body, and Taron could no longer breathe.

"Be careful," Taron warned.

"Oh, don't worry, everyone here is drunk. Or worse."

Taron looked around and saw that he was right: everyone was preoccupied in their own little worlds. Even so, he took Richard's hands off his hips and pushed him away slightly while they continued to dance.

“That jacket is insane,'' Richard said.

"I'm dying from the heat, but I don't want to take it off."

"Don't, it looks great on you."

Richard bit his lip and Taron didn’t know how to interpret that gesture, but he was compelled to dance closer to him. It wouldn’t seem strange to the people around, since everyone there was used to them hugging and touching... but then Richard’s cell phone vibrated, and when he saw the screen his face changed completely.

"Hello?" Richard answered.

Richard headed towards the exit, away from the crowd and loud music... away from him.

Taron couldn't help it. He followed him out.

His mother raised him well, he knew he shouldn't listen in on other people's conversations, but really he would only be listening to Richard’s side, and in fact he was very curious.

He ended up at one of the courtyards of the building. Richard was leaning on a wall next to a large plant, so he decided to stay inside just behind the door.

"It's just a picture!" Richard said.

The music was still audible in the distance, but Taron could perfectly hear what Richard was saying.

"We've already discussed this, why do you keep insisting?"

His partner's tone over the phone signalled frustration and anguish.

“Well, you know what?... Maybe you’re right!”

Richard simply hung up and put his hands to his head. Taron was affected, but he had to resist the urge to comfort Richard, because that would reveal that he was listening in on the conversation.  
_

Richard didn't return to the party. Taron stayed a few more hours so that he wouldn't suspect anything, but eventually he couldn't resist anymore. Back in his room, he took off his jacket and glasses and brushed his teeth. After checking that he looked good in the mirror, he left for Richard's room.

He knocked on the door, feeling nervous, but when Richard opened, a sadness invaded his body.

Richard was dressed in a white hotel robe and his beautiful eyes were swollen and pink.

"Oh, Rich... are you ok?" He asked.

“Not really.”

"I’ll come back another time."

“No… no, please. Stay.”

The way he asked it broke his heart. 

Taron entered the room and saw some food on a small table, but Richard had not touched it.

“Rich, you need to eat something.”

"I'm not hungry."

"What happened?... I mean, if you want to tell me."

Richard sat at the end of the bed, and Taron decided to join him. He gave him all the time in the world. They were silent for several minutes until Richard was ready to speak.

"Do you remember when I told you I needed time because there was a lot going on?"

"Yes."

“Well… Bran and I were apart. He’d gotten mad at me for signing the contract with the privacy clause.”

“He isn't entitled to have a say in decisions you make about your work.”

“He’s my boyfriend and I want to make him happy.”

Hearing those words from Richard's mouth made him feel dizzy and sore.

"So?"

"He called me a hypocrite. We fought very hard."

"Why did he call you that?"

“Because I didn’t act like this when I was dating women. With my girlfriends, I was always holding hands in the street or taking them to premieres.”

"Oh," Taron said, understanding.

“And he’s right!”

"You’re not a hypocrite, Richard... It’s as you said: Hollywood acts like they’re very open, but it’s not like that at all, and he must know that shit because he’s an actor too."

"But he’s different. He’s fire, he’s passionate, and brave! He’s always been out of the closet."

The way Richard talked about Brandon made his heart contract painfully. It would be a dream to hear him talk like that about him one day.

“You’ll have to help him understand how things are.”

"I tried, and I thought he understood and accepted... but now..."

"Now?"

"This time we weren’t fighting about that... it was about you."

"Me?"

“He saw the picture on your Instagram, and he called me. He was hysterical.”

“It's just a picture!”

"He suspects something... that something happened between us and that you’re in love."

"Well, he’s quite the detective."

"Taron, I'm sorry, but... I've denied everything."

"It's okay, my girlfriend... well, ex-girlfriend doesn't know shit either, so... that's the point, right?"

Richard laughed, and Taron felt happy to have been the cause.

"You're a good man, Richard."

"That’s not enough, because... because when I see you, my universe falls apart."

Taron felt like jumping on the bed, or screaming out the window, or calling that cute boy and telling him to rot in hell, that Richard would be his forever... but he held back.

“Really?” He asked, calmly.

“I don’t know what to do. It’s so difficult.”

Richard began to cry in silence, and Taron felt like a monster for causing it. Richard should be laughing all the time like the beautiful human being he is. He doesn’t deserve to suffer.

He never wanted to see him like that again.

"I'm so sorry, Richard."

He stood up and began walking towards the exit, but Richard grabbed him by the arm.

“Don’t go… please.” he begged.

It would have been so easy for him to have Richard that night, so easy to kiss him and lay him on the bed, to take advantage of his vulnerability.

"Stay with me tonight," Richard said.

"But..."

"Please”

But Richard was hurt, weak, maybe a little angry… He wasn’t thinking straight. Taron couldn't allow himself to take advantage of him in that state. 

Taron gathered all his willpower and did the right thing.

"I don't want to cause you more pain."

"You could never..."

“Richard… don’t.”

Taron left the room without looking back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're very close to the end.


	6. Feeling good.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richard really needs Taron.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thank you to pilotofmysoul.tumblr.com for edit the chapter.

Taron couldn't sleep. He had on the same shirt he wore to the premiere, black boxers, and was staring at a spot on the ceiling of the hotel room, when suddenly he heard two soft knocks at the door. At first he thought he imagined them, but then they repeated.

He checked his phone. It was twenty-past-two in the morning and he could only think of one person that could be behind the door.

He got out of bed to open the door... and there he was, still in the hotel robe, eyes red and with a pleading look on his face.

"I need you," Richard said, almost begging.

Fuck willpower! Taron couldn’t resist this devil any longer.

He took Richard by the hand and led him into his room. Apparently he didn't have the courage to do it alone.

"What do you need from me?" Taron asked.

"Everything."

“I would love to give you everything, but you’ll have to be more specific.”

"I need you to make me feel good."

“How do I do that?”

Taron wasn't playing- he really didn't know what Richard needed. To talk? Eat? Sleep? ...Love? He thought everything had become clear between them, but then there Richard was, begging.

Richard closed the distance to rest his lips on his. Warm, soft, trembling.

Impossible to resist.

He made up his mind that he would be there for Richard that night, give him everything he needed. It was not a time for thinking, and he wouldn't be able to even if he wanted. It was impossible to connect logical thoughts with Richard's lips on his.

He would think in the morning, not in the moment.

He wrapped his arms around Richard’s waist and pulled him against his body, deepening the kiss.

Taron heard a soft moan in his mouth that rumbled in his ears and traveled through his body. He planted kisses down Richard’s cheek, erasing the remnants of tears, down his jawline, feeling his soft beard, reaching his neck, feeling his warm skin and jugular vein beating at the same rhythm as his own heart.

“Yes…” Richard moaned.

"Is this what you need?" 

"Can you keep doing that all night?"

"Do you want to stay all night?"

“I want to stay forever.”

Taron knew that sometimes "forever" meant a long time, or a short time. Maybe for them it would mean just that night, so he would make sure it was the best, and then they would remember it forever.

He untied Richard’s robe and discovered a wonderful surprise: he was completely naked underneath.

"You were naked this whole time?" He asked incredulously.

“I’d just taken a bath.”

“You can’t do that to me, Richard. You know I’m crazy about you.”

“Show me.”

Taron kissed him again, but this time he was not careful about it. He pushed the robes aside and glued him against the wall... though it wasn’t exactly a wall, but the wardrobe door with a mirror that ran from the ceiling to floor.

Taron wasn’t sure exactly what to do. He could imagine doing many things to Richard, but he had never done them before and he was afraid of messing up. So he went for something foolproof, something that every man is an expert on with themselves. ‘A man knows what another man likes’, so he couldn't fail.

He turned Richard around and saw his look of surprise and anxiety in the mirror.

“The mirror is cold!” he complained, trying to unstick himself from the glass.

“Shh, will heat up in a minute.”

Taron rubbed his erection, still trapped inside his boxers, against his ass. Richard sighed deeply when he started a wet game with his tongue on his ear.

They looked so hot together. Taron could be very narcissistic if he wanted to, and their reflection in the mirror was an added excitement.

“Open your eyes,” he urged, ”look how beautiful we are together.”

Richard did, and they made eye contact through the reflection in the mirror that was clouded by his breath.

He wrapped his left arm around Richard’s ribs and his right hand around his hard erection.

This was something he knew how to do. He had put Richard in that position so he could pretend like he was doing it to himself. He masturbated more often than he would like to admit, much more frequently in recent weeks. He still thought that the best orgasm was the one given to oneself, created by using just the right pressure, lasting the necessary amount of time.

He wanted to give that to Richard.

Richard dropped his head back to rest on Taron's shoulder. He took the opportunity to bury his nose in Richard’s hair, moving his hand slowly, watching his reflection in the mirror.

"Speed up..." Richard asked.

"Shh… let me enjoy you."

Taron felt his hand get wet, and he knew it was Richard’s precum, which he used to lubricate Richard’s dick… Meanwhile, Taron couldn’t look away from the devil’s face, blurring the mirror with his breath.

"Please..." Richard moaned.

"I will not stop touching you."

"Fuck!"

"Ohh, your mouth is so dirty!”

"Fuck, T..."

Taron turned Richard’s face to the side and kissed him ambitiously, the way he liked, to feel his soft tongue all over.  
He kept moving his hand on Richard as he would on himself, which seemed to be getting good results because Richard was melting in his arms.

Richard stretched his arms behind him and grabbed Taron's butt, causing his erection to rub harder against him.

"Shit!" Taron exclaimed.

“Take this off.”

“I'm not moving until you come.”

Richard moved instead, sliding his boxers down so their hot skin made contact.

"Wanna come on my ass?" Richard asked.

“You don’t need to ask, of course I’m gonna.”

Richard’s eyes were full of tears and Taron knew he was torturing him a little, and he loved it. Richard’s erection was swollen and red in his hand. He looked ready to explode... same as him.

"Fucking hell. You're driving me crazy," moaned.

Richard was futilely trying to hold onto the mirror that was absolutely tarnished by the heat and sweat of their bodies.

Taron could feel Richard's body trembling against his; he could feel his heat and sweat. He was happy and relieved to have made Richard feel so good, just as he had asked him to.

"I'm so close," Richard warned.

"I know."

"God, please... faster!" he almost screamed.

Taron was enjoying torturing Richard but he couldn’t stand it any longer. He was also very close, so he finally sped up the motions of his hands and hips.

No detail of Richard's face was lost when he came, so beautifully. A few seconds later Taron would come too, helping himself clumsily with his left hand, burying his face into Richard's neck.

“Holy shit!” Richard said. “You’re so good with your hands.”

Richard turned around, resting his back against the dirtied mirror. He was flustered and his cheeks were a beautiful red. Taron kissed him with passion. That orgasm had not been enough, he wanted more, he needed more... and those were such dangerous feelings.

“We’re all sweaty,” Richard observed. “I feel dirty again.”

“Let’s take a shower then.”

Taron took Richard by the hand and guided him to the bathroom.

“I can feel your cum dripping down my ass.”

Taron laughed hard as he had not done for a long time, as he only did when he was truly happy.

He turned the water tap and waited for it to warm up. Richard waited patiently behind him in a comfortable, almost homely silence. He took off his dirty shirt and didn't remember when he had lost his boxers.

Taron was the first to enter the shower and extended his hand to Richard.

"Is the temperature good for you?" he asked.

"It's okay."

Richard wet his face and hair, and Taron couldn't stop watching him. So fucking beautiful. He took the soap and lathered it, ready to start washing Richard's skin.

He started with his chest, climbed to his neck, and continued with his arms. Then he turned him around and slowly washed down his back.

“Your ass is amazing,” he praised.

“I'm training hard for the new project.”

“Can’t wait.”

Richard turned and kissed him under the water, softly, slowly. Taron enjoyed the intimacy. It wasn't something sexual, it was just a private and beautiful moment. Richard took a bit of shampoo and ran it through Taron's hair, massaging gently, relaxing him.

"Were you afraid that your hair might not grow back?" he asked.

“Everyday.”

He felt Richard's warm breath over his ear, his arms around his waist. The soap and shampoo slipped through their bodies, and Richard rested his head on his shoulder. 

“Thank you,” he said in a whisper.

“I’ll be there whenever you need me.”

“I know, T.”

“Did I make you feel good?”

“Oh fuck, yes.”

They stayed like that for several minutes, in each other’s arms under the warm shower. Taron suspected that Richard still did not feel entirely satisfied, that a handjob would not be enough, that he would need to do more things to make him happy.

“Would you like to eat something? I’m starving,” he proposed.

“Yes. Can we ask for room service? I don’t wanna go downstairs.”

“Let’s eat in bed.”

“Perfect!... just like you.”

Taron felt his chest swell with joy and expectation. It seemed like a dream to be living that intimate night with Richard, to have him all to himself.

Too good to be true.  
_

Richard asked Taron to lend him some boxers but Taron refused, saying he’d rather see him naked all the time. Richard laughed at his partner’s daring and put the white hotel robe back on. Taron did the same, receiving a tray of mozzarella sticks and marinara sauce. That night they would break their diets.

They sat in the middle of the bed with the food between them, which turned out to be delicious. They had also taken a few cans of beer from the small fridge to create the perfect combination.

"We’re pigs," Taron said.

"And proud of it."

“Your personal trainer will be mad at you.”

“It's just for one night.”

Taron split the last stick of mozzarella with Richard. Then he watched as Richard got out of bed and went to the bathroom for a glass of water. When he returned he took a small box out of his robe pocket, fished out a pill and swallowed it.

"What's that for?" Taron asked.

"It helps me sleep."

Taron remembered a conversation they had during the first week of filming. Richard had told him that he has a kind of sleep disorder preventing him from relaxing during sleep, which he had since he was a boy, but Taron never thought he was taking medication for it.

"And they help you?"

"Sometimes yes, sometimes no."

"Is it permanent or temporary?"

"I have my moments. Sometimes I don't need to take them at all, but lately I've been under a lot of pressure."

Taron decided not to press the issue- he was supposed to be making him feel good. He took the empty tray and put it on the floor, since was planning to use the entire bed.

"I want dessert," Taron said.

"It would be too much junk food."

"I'm not talking about real dessert."

Richard smiled mischievously as Taron approached and kissed him.

“You want to fuck me, don’t you?” Richard asked.

"You read my mind."

"And what makes you think I'm going to let you?"

“Because you want this as much as I do.”

Taron kissed him again, more deeply this time, and laid him gently on the mattress. He untied his robe and found what he liked so much.  
Richard also untied his robe and threw it somewhere in the room. He opened his legs slightly to make room for Taron, who wasted no time in settling between them.

"Fuck!" Taron exclaimed as he felt the skin-to-skin contact. "That feels good."

"Move."

Taron began to move, Richard’s soft moans in his ear. He could feel two strong hands squeezing his ass, deepening the friction. He bit Richard's neck so that he wouldn't scream.

"I wanna be inside of you," Taron whispered in his ear.

“I wanna have you inside of me.”

Taron wanted to taste every millimeter of his skin. He bit Richard’s lower lip, hard, before going for his neck.

He could feel Richard's hands, firm, grabbing his hair, his neck, scratching his back as he slowly kissed down his body.

He was going to do it, he loved everything about him, and he was going to finally suck a dick… Well, Richard’s dick, and that was different. But before that, he entertained himself a bit by biting the inner thighs of that beautiful man.

But Richard was very quiet, and in that moment Taron realized that he had fallen asleep.

"Rich?" He whispered, looking over his face.

He gently shook his shoulder and stroked his cheek, but only got a groan of annoyance in response.

Taron dropped to the bed beside Richard, feeling frustrated and horny.

"Fuck," he thought.  
_

After a while, Taron could appreciate what had happened as a good thing. He had always wanted to sleep with Richard in the non-sexual sense, gaze at him in peace, memorize every detail of his face, feel his calm breaths, take guesses at what he would be dreaming about.  
He had gotten them both under the warm sheets. It was getting a little cold in New York, and he thought that was the best way to fight it- huddling to Richard's body for warmth.

He was tired but he didn't want to sleep, he didn't want to stop looking at him. Suddenly Richard moved, his calm expression twisting in annoyance. It seemed like something in his dreams was bothering him and not letting him rest. Taron touched his face gently, but his expression did not change.

Those pills were supposed to help him.

"Shh... easy," he whispered, trying to calm him.

It didn’t seem to work, Richard was still grimacing in pain and had begun to move around.

It broke his heart to think that Richard might be having a nightmare.

He moved closer and wrapped his arms around him, but the situation did not improve. Richard pushed him away weakly and groaned.

"It's okay, Rich," he whispered again.

Taron was considering waking him up, but he was afraid of hurting him. Maybe it was a normal symptom of his disorder, or a side-effect of the medication.

He tried hugging him more tightly, putting his head on his chest, but that seemed to make it worse. Richard kept struggling, subconsciously pulling away from him in his dream.

Taron understood: Richard didn't want to be in his arms.

He moved away from him until he reached the edge of the big bed, and he watched as little by little, Richard relaxed and the features of his face were once again at peace.

Taron realized that Richard's problem was not his sleep disorder, or the medication. Richard's problem was Taron, that he hurt him and gave him nightmares.

Taron wanted to see him happy, he wanted to make him feel good. How was he going to achieve that if he was the cause of Richard's discomfort?

There was only one thing he could do, and it broke his heart, but it would be worth it to see Richard happy.

That was worth much more than a boy crush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bad news: Next chapter will be the last :( (Maybe a short epilogue after that)
> 
> Let me know what do you guys think about a posible end.
> 
> Thank you.


	7. Happiness.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Wishing a person's happiness is the greatest act of love"
> 
> Last chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before to start thank you again to pilotofmysoul.tumblr.com and my personal friend PrincessMarion for reading this chapter many times and editing it.
> 
> Thank you to all of you, here and in Tumblr for the nice coments and for asking me more, "Boy crush" supposedly it was intended only for one chapter, and now we have seven!!!
> 
> Enjoy.

The brain is a wonderful thing.

Dreams are a vast, mysterious field that scientists and philosophers have tried to decipher for years.

Taron couldn't do it in one night... and he never would.

He did not encroach upon Richard again, hug or kiss him. He did not want to be the cause of any more grief. 

Richard looked like an angel on the other side of the bed, away from him.

He picked up his phone and did some research on dreams, the unconscious, and REM sleep. He remembered taking a psychology course back in high school, but also that he was not the brightest student.

After reading through several sites, he concluded that during sleep, the subconscious is no longer suppressed by the conscious, the emotional side is not challenged by logic or rationality, and our desires and fears are released in a symbolic world of metaphors.  
Richard, free in his subconscious, revealed to Taron his true feelings: that he didn't want to be near him.

In spite of that painful realization, Taron didn't want to leave him completely alone, he wanted to be there when he wakes up. He had already been a coward once when he fled his apartment. But he had grown and matured since that night, and would not make the same mistake again.  
_

Taron didn't remember falling asleep, but he supposed that at some point in the night fatigue had finally managed to beat him.  
He woke up feeling the weight of a body almost on top of his, and soft kisses on his chin and cheek. He couldn't help smiling, it felt so good.

“Wake up, wake up," sang a soft voice, "breakfast is served."

Taron opened his eyes to see Richard's intense, blue ones.

"What?" he asked, confused.

Was he dreaming?

"It's almost noon," Richard said. "I asked for breakfast here."

"Day off, right?"

“That’s right.”

Taron sat up in bed, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. He could see Richard, still in his white robe, pouring coffee on a small table in the middle of the room.

He felt rested, but there was still some sadness in him. He got up and walked to the bathroom. He stayed a long time there before get out feeling more awake wearing one of the white robs.

"There you are," said Richard, smiling. "I was about to check if you were okay."

"Are you ok?"

"I am. Why?”

“Just asking.”

Taron sat next to Richard who was drinking coffee and eating toast.

"I’m not hungry, actually," he said.

“But breakfast is the most important meal of the day, T.”

Taron laughed and took the toast Richard offered, already bitten by him. He felt his partner's hand resting on his leg, and the gaze, intense, on his. 

Shit, his heart started beating faster.

“I know I fell asleep last night, while we were in the middle of something. I'm sorry.” Richard apologized.

"Don’t worry, you were tired, and you had taken that pill..."

“I know, and I'm really sorry. It usually doesn't work that fast. ”

"It's okay."

“I’d like to make it up to you.”

“What do you have in mind?”

"After breakfast we could go on a tour of the city like we’re two simple tourists, and... we’d go without our phones, so that nobody can bother us. And finally, at night, resume what we left unfinished."

That plan sounded so fucking promising, tempting, beautiful, and perfect.

Too good to be true.

Richard moved closer and kissed him softly on the lips, causing his heart to contract with a pain like he had never felt before.

It felt horrible.

"We need to end this right now," Taron said in a choked whisper.

Richard moved away and stared at him, confused.

"I feel like shit."

Richard moved further away, his look of confusion turning into one of pain.

"This... whatever we are doing, has gotten out of hand."

"Taron, I..."

"What are you hiding from here in my room, Rich?"

"What?"

“You came here last night, without your phone, and now you want to be out all day, still without your phone.”

“I just need some peace.”

"Well, your peace is my anguish."

"Anguish?"

“You find your peace and then you leave, and you take all of me with you.”

Taron got up from his chair and walked to the window. He opened the curtains, letting the sunlight caress his skin.

Two arms wrapped around his waist from behind, and a head with soft hair rested on his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry," Richard said.

"I know. I'm sorry too.”

“It was never my intention to hurt you.”

Taron turned to look at him. His face was even more beautiful illuminated by sunlight.

"We were hurting each other from the day we first kissed."

"I never thought this would happen. I assumed you just wanted to experiment and have some fun."

"I thought the same, Richard."

“I do believe you, though. When you say that you love me."

“But you don’t love me back.”

Richard looked away, and lowered his head. His silence was the clearest answer.

“I do love you,” he said, finally.

“I know… but not like I do.”

Richard still didn't look at him, and pulled away to go sit on the edge of the bed. He looked distressed. Taron approached and knelt before him, almost venerating him, as if he were the only deity he believed in.

"What do you need, Richard?" he asked softly.

“I should ask you the same to you.”

“I'm asking you right now.”

“I just want to feel okay… with myself. I'm not doing well.”

"Why?"

“I’m so confused, so tired. I feel alone, I feel distant from everything, from all the people I love.”

"It’s going to be okay, Rich."

“I’ve signed the most important contract of my life, the opportunity I worked so hard for, but I have to pay a very high price and I don't know if I’ll be able to do it alone.”

"Richard... if he loves you, he'll accept the rules of the game."

"I don't want you to think I'm using you, Taron."

"I don’t think that."

“I do love you. I love being with you, and kissing you… you’re on my mind every day.”

"I'm glad to hear that."

“You’re my devil too.”

Richard leaned forward and tried to kiss him, but Taron had made a decision and didn't want to cave in.

"I told you, you're hurting me," he repeated, pulling away.

"What do you need, Taron?"

"I need to heal."

"How can I help you?"

"Set me free."

They hugged and cried silently for a while in the same positions: Richard sitting on the bed, and Taron kneeling between his legs.  
Some endings are happy... other endings are necessary.  
_

Taron decided to turn off his phone. He was tired of receiving names and photographs of young actresses or models from his PR team, attempting to arrange dates. He didn't want a girlfriend, he didn't want anything with anyone.

He was still trying to heal.

"Bloody hell," said Dexter, next to him. They were both waiting to board a plane to Japan to continue Rocketman promotions.

"What?"

“They just unlinked Richard from Paramount.”

"Why?"

“Fucking Disney!”

Taron understood. The new Marvel project was announced and fans were very excited, and there was no room for a rock star's movie musical anymore.

Richard was moving on.

“Well, I guess it’s you and me from now on… and maybe Jamie,” Dexter said.

“Fine by me.”

They got on the plane and Taron finally felt relaxed like he hadn’t in months. Richard was fine, Richard was happy, and that was all that mattered.

His sacrifice had been worth it.

"Hey, Dex?"

"Hmm?"

"Who’s your boy crush?"

The man thought for a moment and then spoke:

“Clint Eastwood.”

“Great!”

Dexter said nothing more, and Taron thanked him internally. One part of him believed that Dexter already knew everything.  
_

Taron was happy to return to his apartment. He had passed through Japan, Australia, spent several weeks in Los Angeles, and then was finally back home, with his friends and family.

He had stayed with Elton and David in Los Angeles and felt like another child of theirs. They had family dinner together, played in the park, received visitors, and watched movies while curled up on the couch. 

He didn't have a dad growing up, and now he had two.

He went out to have fun a few times with friends, and attended several parties as well. He met many new people, women and men he could have gone home with.

He’d been attracted to several women, and it would have been easy to have them, but the absolute truth was that he didn't feel like it. His body didn't want sex, his mind wanted to be at peace. Of the men he met, he was not attracted to any.

There was only one man in his life: his boy crush.

"Give yourself time to heal," Elton had told him during a conversation.

"Love sucks," Taron repeated.

"Love sucks when it's over.”

It was a beautiful summer night, and he and Elton were alone in the park surrounding his mansion when he heard his confession.

“Sometimes I still think about John.”

"Oh God, Elton."

“It’s just, sometimes… people we once loved are hard to forget, even if they hurt you.”

"I guess."

“What you did for Richard was the purest act of love that exists. To wish that a person be happy, even if it’s without you... "

"Do you think he realized that?"

"He will... with time."

Taron rested his head on Elton's shoulder and looked up at the clear, starry sky. He thought of Richard, of where he would be or who he would be with.

He only wished for him to be happy.

Taron smiled, remembering these long conversations with Elton while preparing the dough for his homemade pizza.

He thought a little music would help him feel more lively, but as he picked up the remote his phone rang, diverting his attention.

It was Richard.

His heart went up to his throat and drowned him.

"...Hello?” he managed to answer.

“Hey, T! It’s been a while.”

"Yeah."

He felt so overwhelmed just hearing his voice. He still missed him like crazy.

"What are you doing?" Richard asked.

“Making pizza.”

"Are you in London?"

"Yes."

“At your flat?”

"Yes, and you?"

“I’m in London too.”

“Really? At your house? ”

“Actually, I'm outside your house.”

‘What the fuck?’ he thought. “What?”

“Open the door.”

He could feel his heart racing like a horse, it would probably burst out of his chest at any moment.

He had to see him with his own eyes so he walked to the door, turned the handle and opened it.

There he was.

Richard was smiling at him, his phone still over his ear.

"Oh my God!" Taron yelled.

Richard threw himself into his arms and wrapped him in a strong, almost desperate hug.

“I missed you so much, T.”

"Me too, Rich."

"I was very busy," he explained, seeing the look on Taron’s face. "I'm sorry."

“It's okay, you're working.”

“Too much. I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing."

“Of course it’s fucking good!”

“I wanted to see you so badly, I didn't want you to think that I’d forgotten you.”

"How could you forget?"

Richard smiled again, they were so close, and Taron realized that he wasn't over him yet... that he was never going to get over him.  
_

Richard helped him prepare what was left of the pizza and Taron cracked open some beers from the refrigerator.  
It was just like old times, the two of them laughing at anecdotes and sharing about their lives.

"When do you start filming?" Taron asked.

"In two weeks."

"You must be excited."

"I am, but I’m sad I had to leave the Rocketman promotions."

"You're moving on. Sometimes I think I'm going to be Elton for the rest of my life."

“You get very attached to your projects, so you suffer when they are finished. You’ve got to start seeing them as only a passing job.”

"Yeah, I guess... and I know, I'm working on that with my therapist."

"Really? I should get one too."

Taron took the pizza out of the oven and they sat at the table to enjoy it together.

"You look thinner," Richard observed.

"I reached my ideal weight, and I’m trying to maintain it."

"With this you will not do it, my friend," he teased, biting into the pizza.

“You look more muscular.”

“I've been training every day for the role.”

“Your boyfriend must be happy.”

Taron gave himself a mental kick as that came out of his mouth, but he couldn't help it. A part of him needed to know about their relationship.

“He’s happy for me.”

"Are you happy, Rich?"

"Yes... yes, I am."

"Are you feeling good about yourself like you wanted?"

"Yes," he responded genuinely.

"You have no idea how good it makes me feel to hear you say that."

Richard smiled and raised his glass of beer, proposing a toast.

"To happiness."

"To happiness."

Taron had a drink, waiting for the alcohol to loosen the lump in his throat.

If only Richard knew that his happiness made him happy, that he was smiling because Richard was living his dream, that he was sleeping peacefully because he knew that Richard was sleeping with the person he loved.

If only Richard knew how helplessly in love he was with him.  
_

The sound of Richard's laugh was beautiful, just like him. Everything about him was beautiful.  
Richard was telling him an anecdote about his days filming Game of Thrones, but Taron wasn't really listening, so lost he was in his beauty.

"I saw Elton last week," Richard said suddenly.

"Eh?"

“He called me. He wanted to congratulate me on the new project.”

"Wow, great."

"He invited me and Brandon to dinner at his house, but Brandon wasn't in town."

"What a pity."

"So I went alone."

Taron began to feel somewhat nervous because he knew he would have undoubtedly been one of the topics of conversation.

"Did you have a good time?" he asked.

"Of course, you know how they are."

“They’re amazing.”

Richard wiped his mouth with his napkin and stood up.

"I have to go now," he said.

Taron stood up too, and walked with him to the door.

“Thanks for the visit,” Taron said. “It was a nice surprise.”

“Thanks for the pizza, it was delicious.”

Suddenly, a silence invaded the place. It didn't feel uncomfortable, but it did feel a little heavy.

"Taron... I..." Richard started to say.

"Yes?" Taron asked, expectantly.

"I think it was very brave what you did the last time, and I never thanked you."

"What do you mean?"

“You asked me to get away from you and told me I was hurting you. I wouldn’t have done it if you didn’t have asked me to”

"Wouldn't you?"

"Don’t. I would have continued to hurt you, to seduce you, to use you, because… I did it that night at the hotel, even though I’d told you otherwise.”

"I know."

“I was so selfish. I just wanted to feel good about myself.”

"I don't care what happened before, if you're happy now."

"I can't believe how much you love me."

"I do."

"I wish I could love you with just a fraction of how you love me."

"It's not your fault, Richard… It's not my fault either. You don't choose who you fall in love with."

"And I thought you were immature"

"I was, but you helped me grow"

“Can you do something for me?”

“Anything”

“Be happy”

"Sometimes it's not that easy"

"You can try. I would like to see you soon in a new movie, in a new premiere, with new co-stars, maybe a pretty girl by your side”

“I can’t believe how much you love me”

“I do”

Taron had no plans to cry that night, but he did anyway when Richard held him in his arms.

He could sense Richard’s hands stroking his back, his hard body against his, his breathing, a little agitated, over his ear, the captivating scent of his skin.

Taron caressed his shoulders, his arms. He tilted his head back when he felt Richard's lips gently on his neck.

Their bodies were reacting to the contact... but their minds couldn't.

Richard was the first to separate, and Taron discovered that he was also crying. Instinctively Taron searched his lips, but the kiss he was waiting for ended, tenderly, on his forehead.

“I'm so honored to be your boy crush,” Richard said. 

Taron smiled and closed the door, letting Richard go one last time. He said nothing more. He had nothing more to say, and whatever else he could think of, Richard would already know.

He leaned back on the door and took a deep breath. He felt a strange sense of relief at the knowledge that Richard understood why he did what he did, that Richard had been sincere about what had happened that night in his hotel room, and that Richard was proud of him for his values.

Richard loved him in his own way.

Taron was proud of himself.

He needed to let go and carry on.

That night, Taron stayed awake reading some scripts that his publicist sent him and he had ignored. There were some very good ones that would undoubtedly be an interesting challenge.

Sometimes a farewell leads to a new adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Each person has a different way of perceiving the things they see or read, and that's my idea of Taron and Richard. Of course I don't know them, and I tried to be very respectful, this is just fiction, but I also wanted to make it as real as possible.
> 
> I bit bitersweet, I know.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this story, and thank you.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.
> 
> Special thank you to pilotofmysoul.tumblr.com for edit the chapter, because english is not my native lenguaje.
> 
> Love you all.


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